Sawtooth Spire dear god: thanks, if you loved me the vegetables would be extinct

with only a nose to smell things with, the curious boy’s approach was the sidereal falling-star backdrop to her woeful symphony, and she was lucky for it. he could have just as easily been a thrifty fox or worse, a bear. fresh out of hibernation, although the adults of sagtannet knew their tract by their toe tips and would have decoyed any troublesome ursine away from this address … were it not the case they'd been hibernating all winter long. 
no response met his mouse-hearted greet, for when he stepped up to the den’s threshold, a bit of dirt tumbled in from the disturbance of his giant boy feet and tapped against her shoulder. instinctively she froze. wylla never lingered outside for long before coming in, and her father’s presence was a modest temblor besides. 
until this moment she'd never been confronted with the concept of a stranger. phaedra mewled a questioning bid for mother? and shuffled into the shifting mast of afternoon sun, nose trying to make sense of the new yet somehow also familiar whiff of the guest at her door.