Dragoncrest Cliffs Choose drugs AND hugs.

A day of collecting the remaining herbs of the season had been planned to end with a well-earned old man nap. Phobos lifted his head from where he lay curled up in their nest, eyes half lidded with sleep. Not exactly. He grunted.

Eyes then went to the satchel his mate had dropped, nose wrinkling at the potent smell. Just what had he brought back now? He was used to a trophy or two, but not strange herbs.

You decide to take up herbalism? A brow was raised.