"Huh...? No, my name is Mar - woah!!"
Maren felt the girl take his hand, her skin soft and her grip...terrifyingly strong. He winced slightly as she dragged him to his feet.
"...Maren." He finished, dusting himself off. "Maren LeChance. And you are?"
She was cute. Freckle-faced and beaming happily. But despite that, Maren couldn't deny there was something foreboding about her. The way she smiled was mischievous and almost...sadistic. It reminded him of a girl he'd grown up with back in Serf...
Gretta. Gretta Hoogenak. Just remembering her name sent a chill up Maren's spine. She was a year older than him and about three times as large. She'd lived on the farm next door and her favorite hobby (besides chewing on screws and lifting 100lb bales of hay) was tormenting him to the point of tears. It was Gretta who had taught him that a knuckle sandwich wasn't very tasty.
But this girl was small and friendly and cute. She couldn't possibly be like Gretta...or could she...? Maren couldn't help but feel like he knew her from somewhere else.
"Hey, you ever happen to visit Davonshire before? You look familiar somehow."
It was then that the sounds of clamoring townsfolk caught Maren's ears.
"Oh, man. These people can't be happy about their windmill. I think you're right, we should get outta here. I'll explain what happened on the way. Uhm...where'd you say that trail was?"
At the mention of the trail, the girl beamed again, her eyes shining with excitement. Nah...there was no way this girl was trouble. If there was one thing Maren was an expert on, it was women, and this one totally fit the girl next door type; innocent, homely, and eager to be swept off her feet. All he had to do was play the hero, make her feel safe, and she'd be putty in his hands.
"Welp...let's be off." Maren stretched, being sure to flex his muscles while doing so, his voice dropping half an octave. "Just be sure to stay close to me. This area can be kinda dangerous."