Sawtooth Spire call our waitress “honey” then they tip with ones

Each time the young girl wandered from the den she'd go a bit farther. She went on these trips for nothing more than interesting rocks. It's become a habit for her. Some days she'd find rocks fit for her collection, other days she wouldn't. Hopefully luck would be on her side this time around.

Marble slowly waddled along a dirt path. Every time she came across a rock she'd stop, stare, smell, and touch. None of them were good enough to bring back home.