The Heartwood roof of the world

The stranger returned his greeting with a question. While he was not entirely proficient in the common Hedgerow tongue, Tadec could still make out what it was she was searching for. The fire in his gaze darted north, where he had scented the sulfurous aromas that radiated from the warm springs. With a slight sweeping of his tail, the spindly moonlighter nodded his head. “Not far,” he told her, stretching the smile on his dark lips. Then, as if the idea had suddenly struck him, the crow flagged his tail and motioned with a sweeping gesture of his narrow muzzle in the direction she should go. “Tadec can show,” he offered; the halfling’s tone was genuine enough that it did not seem out of place for him to offer a stranger an escort to the desired location. With the breath of winter still clinging to the air, the thief imagined it would have been nice to bask in the heat of the hot springs and warm his tired limbs. He had trekked far, but he imagined that the woman had also ventured a good ways from her home. In this, he imagined they shared some common ground, and he was willing to assist as much as he could.