"Might b' nice to get out of th' rain, ye say." You hear a grating, raspy voice say behind you, followed with a low chuckle.
When you look behind you, you see a short, ugly gnomish looking fellow munching on the rations you threw towards the raccoon, who is sitting on the creature's shoulder nibbling at whatever the creature hands him.
The creature's skin is jaundiced and covered in warts and moles. His hair is a clayish red and his clothes are worn and dirty; he casts a shadow that is disproportionate to his height, even beyond any trick of the campfire light.
He looks up you with inquisitive eyes.
"I'm surprised she ain't killed ye yet. She's in a bit of a mood t'night, that one," he continues in that harsh, awful whisper.
Once he's done with the crumbs that you tossed, he begins foraging in your pack for more while the raccoon chitters excitedly and runs across the gnomish creature's shoulder.
Jarvis is still up, messing with the axle, but until now was too engrossed in his work to notice anything or be noticed by anyone.
"What was that, Gwen? I can't hear you under this infernal wagon." he says as he crawls out from his work.
"What in blazes?" he gasps as he looks upon the creature, recoiling as he holds his wrench close.
The creature twists his head at an angle and observes Jarvis. The creature sniffles once and wipes his nose as he considers the oddly dressed merchant.