Bearclaw Valley Single file, like soldiers on a mission.

Sorry this is all introspective garbage lmfao...

Karst was ambivalent about the concept of spirits. He did not know enough and the woman did not share details, only riddles, which served to confuse and irritate him. He stowed the irritation deep down, tucking it in to a well protected mental cache and looked upon her with an empty stare when she spoke her latest bit of drivel.

If he was going to learn anything from her Karst would have to fight against those riddles. He wanted to know these things and make sense of them, even if Averna was adverse to teaching him. He could be patient; afraid as he was, Karst's greatest skill was in biding his time.

Perhaps he would need to ask a better question — present a riddle of his own. He considered the option and then dismissed it, because Averna was right: he did not know how to communicate with spirits and since she would not willingly divulge these things, that meant there was a prerequisite he did not meet. A quality he did not possess.

That was one more thing to add to his growing list of failures, another slight to drop in that mental cache and bury deep. Not a warrior, a wordsmith, or any kind of soothsayer to spirits — so what was he truly capable of?

In the silence that came following Averna's answer, Karst's gaze appeared to darken. He thought these things over while staring at the dirt between the woman and her boulder, his chin tucking slightly down, until he'd made his own conclusions — and then in silence he began to prowl away from her, leaving her with those spirits. Let her have them while she could — but one day he would learn.