Tropf emerged from the biggest tomb in the cemetery. She had recently deemed it her home.. The grave of a man by the name of Gotlieb. It was of German origin like her, and so she spoke to the deceased often even though he never responded. He was a good listener, however, and if she was ever in one of her fits, she could find herself venting to him. He also didn't mind her storing her food and rags there, and his home was open for her to sleep in. He was the most charitable gentlemen she had ever known.
The chameleon slid the heavy stone door back into place, her scales rippling into colors that would keep her hidden to the naked eye as she did so. The great part of being a chameleon was the stealth that came with it. When she had first changed, she had been unable to adjust to it, but now, she had mastered her abilities to her advantage. She had to stay hidden with all the transformed being taken in by the government.