Fairspell Meadow Spurs

Reno chuckled again. This green-eyed wonder had never seen herself a tumbleweed. Stillwater used to have plenty of them. The damn things would roll about with the passing wind like they were late for morning brunch. More than a few times Reno’d had to pull out their sticks from his coat. They always managed to take hairs with them. 

Tumbleweeds… shoot dunno if they’re good for much. They’re awful keen on blowing around. Big ol’ tangled balls of prickly sticks that just roll where the wind blows. Reno offered a small shrug of his shoulder, suggesting that she wasn’t missing out on much. He had a feeling she’d see one if she wanted. The dusty man hadn’t roamed too far north. There was chance for a rogue wind to bring some in. 

Amalia seemed fairly disheartened that she didn’t have much to offer regarding the groups in that area. Reno lifted his chin and gave her a swift wink. 

That’s alright, darlin’. More to find fer myself. Would ya mind a bit o’ company from a fella like me? Worth asking.