Neverwinter Forest slower & slower

There was not much to be found, especially not so late in the season. The cold decimated anything that might have been of value to him in the way of herbs and pagan ritual items, so his capabilities as a shaman and healer were limited. It happened every year, and it was always a solemn time for the brute. His interior dialogue  always seemed to match the conditions of the earth; when the seas grew turbulent, he grew restless; when the earth was calm and bright, so was he; and in this moment, he felt gaia’s austerity as a deep sinking all the way to his bones. 

Komodo was grateful for any respite he got, especially when it came in the form of a woman — the soft sounds of shuffling footsteps heralded her arrival. The earthstalker at first looked over his shoulder, then drew around himself to face her. The girl sported an inky pelage that reminded him of Coelacanth but was not a small, waifish, starving thing as so many shewolves on the coast tended to be. “Hullo,” he chuffed in his roughhewn tenor, his half-assed attempt at foraging all but forgotten.