Larkin, an old man, had a modest reputation among the Beast Tribe. He lived alone and had an extremely violent temper, but he was fairly friendly toward beastfolk. He made his living selling medicinal herbs and occasionally treated beastfolk on the brink of death or youngsters who had reached a certain age without awakening their abilities. Those he saved sometimes helped him out, keeping him from sinking into utter destitution.
Because of his strange behavior, and because the beastfolk he treated addressed him respectfully, he became known as Priest Larkin.
"Konan is still young, and the child takes things deeply to heart. The harder you push him, the harder he'll resist." Priest Larkin wore a coat that wrapped him tightly from head to toe. Even his hands were covered in thick gloves.
A little boy of about seven blinked as he stared at the old man before him. In truth, he could see almost nothing, since the man had wrapped himself up so thoroughly. Occasionally, he caught sight of a pair of eyes like black hollows staring at him. That gaze sent chills down his spine, so he sat without daring to move.
Har bowed and nodded repeatedly, his expression devout. "You're absolutely right, Priest. Do you mean we should simply let him grow up like this?"
"You can take him out for some experience occasionally. Give him more affection."
"Thank you, Priest. Konan, come thank the Priest."
When Karu brought Qian Wanyu over, several people were still waiting in line for Priest Larkin to bless them, treat their illnesses, and so on. He pointed at Har and Konan, who had just taken their leave of Larkin. "That's Har from the Mabu Tribe. He's always worried about his little beastfolk child. He probably came to ask Priest Larkin for help."