he held out his hand, washed clean of mud though there was still some clay under his nails. Cylvan frowned, but extended an open palm, gifted with the small cluster of quartz points. Cylvan made an initial face of disgust, before it melted into restrained curiosity, eyes lifting back to Saffron in question. “I got these… for you,” Saffron said, but didn’t look at him, just gazing apprehensively into the dim library ahead.
HE GAVE HIM PRETTY ROCKS
