The edges of Edd's mouth curled downward as he stooped, looking at the small. greasy shrub that had tried to push its way through the dirt. It was tiny, smaller than any plant he'd ever seen, and the goldenrod yellow flower at the top looked pitiful. Emaciated, as they all were. No sustenance, nothing to find in this hard land. Still, Edden was used to that, and when he stood, it took a second for the burning in his thighs to recede. He stretched purposefully, his whole body shaking, and looked around.
The grounds were all he'd ever known, but he couldn't escape the feeling that there was more, hidden somewhere. The Spire Demon was their gaoler, but that didn't mean there was nothing to be seen in their jail. He trailed along the edge of the bubble, eyes peeled for anything strange. It was all strange.
He saw someone crouched, examining something, and crouched himself. He crept along the outer edge, the bow slung across his back remaining in place. It was unlikely bandits would be here, looking at flora and fauna, but that didn't mean it was impossible. Still, he'd like to investigate the situation before making himself known. In a hard land, hard choices had to be made, and if he could slip away without having to confront the man, he would. As he drew closer, the soft noise of a hum reached him, and he stopped moving to strain his ears to hear. He didn't know the tune, but it was sad, distant. It reminded him of the songs he heard in taverns, the croonings of a love-weary bard who's lost too much or too long ago.
After a few moments, Edden straightened himself and resolved to speak to the man. He cleared his throat loudly and hailed the man, walking over slowly with his hands in the air.
"Good day," he called with his hands raised, showing he was holding no weapons. "Are you lost?"
The grounds were all he'd ever known, but he couldn't escape the feeling that there was more, hidden somewhere. The Spire Demon was their gaoler, but that didn't mean there was nothing to be seen in their jail. He trailed along the edge of the bubble, eyes peeled for anything strange. It was all strange.
He saw someone crouched, examining something, and crouched himself. He crept along the outer edge, the bow slung across his back remaining in place. It was unlikely bandits would be here, looking at flora and fauna, but that didn't mean it was impossible. Still, he'd like to investigate the situation before making himself known. In a hard land, hard choices had to be made, and if he could slip away without having to confront the man, he would. As he drew closer, the soft noise of a hum reached him, and he stopped moving to strain his ears to hear. He didn't know the tune, but it was sad, distant. It reminded him of the songs he heard in taverns, the croonings of a love-weary bard who's lost too much or too long ago.
After a few moments, Edden straightened himself and resolved to speak to the man. He cleared his throat loudly and hailed the man, walking over slowly with his hands in the air.
"Good day," he called with his hands raised, showing he was holding no weapons. "Are you lost?"
