Luneshale Pass which door do we open?

if only she could mutter some incantation to whisk away his sense of preservation! qiao muttered to herself, pulling the bolus back to her chest. 

the crone was not one to waste energy in fruitless errands. he was too crafty to make a worthy errand-boy, and his wits too close to his sense of self to be easily molded. 

poison does not always act quickly. she dismissed his logic with vague gesticulation.  what use would it be having you die in the water to serve as warning to others? no, some poisons take hours to set hold in your blood — and by then, it is too late.

she collected her trinkets and pulled the greenbriar torc through her slim neck. i have no use for a dead errand boy. she shrugged off his inquiry for more details with a flick of her tail, already climbing from the rocky embankment to make her way down luneshale’s vast plains.