“Bloody rags? That may do. I guess there is one way to find out,” Nurahi ponders, zigzagging from side to side in the air, slowly but steadily descending until his feet touch the ground. The pixie does not take flight again, instead approaching his settlement on foot. Some ritual or custom of his kin perhaps?<br/>The pixies live in an area of the wood that at first glance seems unremarkable save for the large amount of moss coating the tree trunks. “We dwell underground for the most. We likely do not need such a safety measure here, as I said these woods are safe, but old habits are hard to shake off. Do you want to eat something whilst I rally the others? Maybe some wine?”<br/>Whilst waiting for a reply Nurahi takes the cloth which Xen finally managed to find and examines it. “No blood,” he declares in a quiet, puzzled voice, “Just...sand. We found sand near where you did battle. This Red Man of yours, I think his blood dries into sand. He truly is a being of the golden valleys, through and through. Now I’m even more curios,” The pixie walks over to a particularly thick tree trunk, yellow-brown where the wood shows through the moss and lifts the moderately conceal lid, calling out a single, long word in his own musical tongue.