The Sunspire Get boozy, boozy, boozy

Dirt. Her mind seemed to summon the word from somewhere in her miniscule dictionary and presented it to her, and just like that, her inspection was complete. She hadn't moved besides her brief side-step to keep the clod in view, and hadn't approached it or touched it or otherwise gave any indication that she wanted to investigate up close. She didn't need to. Her mind was already whirring just from afar, and she had already deconstructed it in her mind.

She may have made to approach then and act on some of her previous queries, but she became acutely aware of Wraen's presence all of a sudden and froze in place. Her baby blues slowly panned over Wraen's grey-brown nose, avidly avoiding the woman's eyes like they would burn her if she made contact, and then settled somewhere to the left of her head. The hair on her nape stood up uncomfortably.

Overwhelmed by the sudden, seemingly unannounced presence, Wisp began to pick her way in a strange sideways shuffle back toward the den with her legs splayed out and her head low, resembling a spooked kitten.