Heron Lake Plateau and when you wanted me, i came to you

the sylph casually follows the gunmetal bite of fire's eyes across the flat, formless expanse. a wasteland of stagnant water and flimsy reeds (in caiaphas' eyes). she saw no promise for a densite in that unbroken landscape, lest it was a buried and deep promise, in which she would be unlikely to find.

fire spoke of a small field; grasslands often had hills, and small nooks in which to seek egress. caiaphas looked to her expectantly, ready to quit the endless stretch of water and marsh. "i can dig." it was no lie -- she was used to dark corridors, and scrabbling through tunnels most wolves wouldn't dare dream to ford.

curious to see what the firebrand had in store, the sylph deferred to her lead.