“What is it?” Dross inquires with a tone of uncertain fascination. “Did you find it, make it? I thought the magic needed to create something almost alive was lost,” he reaches out to gently tap Nimble with a twig. “And what is it doing here? It mentioned being at the Unnatural Hill,”<br/><br/>Rising on unsteady feet, the effect of the alcohol made worse by their brief rest, Mitta and Hajna move away from the camp fire. “Short shleeper for a human...” the male notes. Hajna holds him back as she bends down to check whether or not Rose is still resting.