Sleepy Fox Hollow Come Back

The Hollow was an unexplored landmark of the spires, and as it didn’t sit well with the herbalist, she’d strode from Diaspora’s claim with a resolute and stumbling gait. There was still a hitch in her stept, even as her mind fought to compensate for the lack of sight in her left eye; if there was anything to show for it, she was certainly improving — if her victory in the Wapun was something to go by.

And it wasn’t so much the word of foxes that drew her south, either. As far as Aure was concerned, no stone would be left unturned until she’d identified as many flora amongst the fauna that she could. So, after her arrival, the Pionier considered what might be the best path to stagger down into this Hollow.

Just like Redsand, all over again, her thoughts grumbled about, and she started when she noticed a hulking, pale behemoth of a male — Llyr?

...But, no, not him, either. Where his had been piercing blue, the one straggling his way towards her had an eye of honeycomb; a red-ridden temple where the other should’ve been. Vaguely, she wondered if this frostfurred vagrant suffered from half-depth as she did — of course he must be.

“How’s hunting been for you?” were the wry, unashamed, but undeniably mockless words.