Neverwinter Forest a new fantastic point of view

Cypress turned his head toward his mother’s voice, as sensitive to the lower thrum of her honeyed timbre as he was to Rannoch’s shrill cries and Scimitar’s deep, enduring rumblings — but the sensation of the grayscale puppy drawing nearer to him captured the soot sprite’s attention just as swiftly. It was difficult for him, at this tender age, to focus on any one thing for too long. He “looked” at Rannoch, his brow furrowing as he pointed his blunt muzzle toward his brother, and squealed immediate protest as the tip of his nose was engulfed by Rannoch’s mouth. Too clumsy to make a clean break for it, he flailed both forepaws frantically without ever making contact with the dandelion fluff boy, tiny tail whirring like a sad little helicopter rotor as his hind legs kicked in a tantrum-like way. Then, abruptly, he stopped, his body overtaken with a strange sensation he couldn’t define — and he paused in a waiting stillness, the breath hitching in his infinitesimal lungs —

— and sneezed directly into his brother’s mouth.