The Sunspire when the trees are crowned with leaves

Although Spine had been greeted by someone altogether too solid after her ascent to Arrow Lake, she couldn't shake the image of those green eyes and that dark shape from her mind—it clearly had not been her companion at the lake's shore. Still, as otherworldly as that black silhouette had seemed, the female couldn't be sure that it was actually what she hoped (with all her heart) it was. And so, after she and Jormag had parted ways, Spine decided she would track the mysterious being.

Which, it turned out, was far more difficult than it had seemed originally. Whoever—whatever—it was, seemed to have been stitched out of darkness itself, and it had left no scent nor tracks to speak of. "But I saw it," she muttered stubbornly, "I know I did."

Her grandfather had told her all about the fey; the nymphs and sprites, the spirits of the wild that were not quite of this earth. She had been desperate to find one, see one with her own eyes, ever since she had first heard of them as a young pup. When her grandfather had passed away, she had decided to make it her mission to have the adventures he told her of. Now that she was tantalizingly close to proving that his tales were all true, Spine found herself doubting the authenticity of her encounter.

Only when she found it again, saw it up close and personal, spoke to it, would she allow herself to declare the mission successful, her journey complete.

"Now," Spine began, her voice once more filled with determination and curiosity, "I wonder if fairies like to climb mountains." She was at the base of one, now, but it would prove far too difficult to navigate upwards in the darkness—as it was, she couldn't make out how far it reached into the sky. Spine sighed, rolling back to sit on her haunches, "I suppose I'll have to wait until morning to find out."