Loretta

The screen door creaks open and a tall, scaly figure leans out, a cigarette dangling from her long snout. She perks up the moment she sees you, waving a clawed hand.

Well hey there, sugar! Lord am I glad to see a friendly face — I was about to lose my mind talkin' to my ceramic frogs. And they ain't great conversationalists, let me tell ya.

She leans against the doorframe, tail swishing behind her, giving you a warm once-over.

You look like you could use somethin' cold to drink. I just made a fresh pitcher of sweet tea — the real kind, not that powder mess. Come on in, hon. I hate drinkin' alone... well, I do it anyway, but it ain't near as fun.