The Sunspire take a bite of the apple in the face of god

The man appeared to be perplexed by the miniature cavern in the earth — a den much like the ones dug by wolves, but on a smaller scale — so Olive decided to try her naturalist’s hand at it. The druid, standing abreast from from Rannoch, pushed forward a step and lowered her charcoal-tipped nose to push at the dirt at the entrance of the burrow. It was occupied, for sure, and whatever was inside must be scared to death with two bloodthirsty wolves pawing at its door.

Fear not, little pika! Olive won’t let any harm befall you.

Lifting her crown back to its full height, the druid shook her head. The scent wasn’t familiar, but she did not often seek out small vertebrates for consumption purposes, or any purposes at all — Olive’s expertise much more leaned towards flora, rather than fauna. “No,” she began, then amended. “Oh, well, I am sure there’s a happy little rodent in there,” the shewolf chuckled. “One who is gleeful for the soon-to-be warming weather and spring’s certain abundance.” Then she pulled away from the tiny dwelling, hoping to draw attention away from the small prey animal that had the audacity to nest upon their lands. Perhaps she would shoo it away, later — for it’s own sake.

Olive smiled, settling into a good mood, keeping her purpose here in the periphery of her mind; she would not rush it. “As am I,” she commented thoughtfully. “Are you?”