[SE] ignis aurum probat

With permission given, Fox turns his attention to the seam of obsidian. He has no mining tools with him, but there's a bit of sharp rock littering the tunnel floor, and he's able to chip off a few bits of jet black without too much trouble. "Ah, the blood moon festival?" he asks. "I had heard something like that was going on. I hadn't even decided if I would attend, to be honest." He supposes he should, though. He doesn't get out much as it is. Collecting his shards of obsidian, Fox carefully folds them in a bit of fabric and slips them into the bag he's carrying over his shoulder. "Ah, yes," he says of the shift, still feeling strange about having one despite it being wholly his own for over a year. "A fyrhund," he explains. "You said you were a hybrid, right? Does that mean you have shifts as well?" fox