Wild Berry Meadow You're God damned right

Kjalarr does not know much about plants but he doubts that Potema will find what she seeks. Winter has stolen through the Wilds and with it has forced into hibernation all means of plant life except those that are durable enough to survive it’s harsh and unforgiving temperatures. “I am not the expert here but I doubt you’re going to find what you seek,” He draws his salmon pink tongue across his jowls. “Your stronger than the addiction. You don’t need them anymore.” He attempts to encourage her, remembering what Vaati had told him. Kjalarr is not swayed, especially by a boy whose words of calling Potema a curse are hypocritical at best. Potema may be Kjalarr’s curse ( as Kjalarr is no doubt her own ) but Vaati is a curse of Blackfeather. He will herald their destruction; a child in power that should have never been left near any sort of leadership position. “Blackfeather Woods needs you, Potema. They need you clear of head and they need you strong.” He murmurs to her, glimpsing at her out of the corner of his eye while the one glazed milky scans uselessly: depicting only shadows and thick fog of irreparable damage.