Sawtooth Spire i'm bound by the feeling that's so easy to fake

No, not stinky? Stag missed the reference.

First a dimple of a smile, then a bald grin -- the clues clicked into place, though Stag played clueless a moment longer. "Is it..  big teethies?" He grinned in turn, his tail swaying. "Oh, something you are when you're with me..?" He looked up to the sky as if thinking hard on this one, though he knew the answer by now was likely smile - "Is it sassy?"

That clearly wasn't the answer, so Stag grinned in return, every shiny surface of his teeth visible. "It's smile, amirite?" He felt a tug in his heart to hear she was smiling when she was around him -- how could something from the mouth of a babe be so saccharine and sweet?

"We can make our own kind of special." Stag inferred, already nosing about to find a good plot. "You pick the place. Think hard - what about it made it special? We can find little charms to place around it to really make it your own, and if you think really hard of the things you love and enjoy while you're digging or planting or even holding a rock, those good thoughts will transfer to the deed you're doing -- it is good luck." Stag may or may not have pulled this last tidbit out of his behind -- but he did firmly believe that things as small as a rock could hold good and bad energy depending on who had last touched it.