PetalBirdie

They probably checked the questing guild more than they needed to. The occasional eye-roll they got from probably-tired receptionists when they scrambled in at the crack of dawn to take stock of the new requests right away was probably an indicator of that, but eh. It was fun, it kept them busy, and it made them try things they hadn’t before. Like this. Wicke stood at the mouth of the cave, apparently by himself, reading over the request note and the rough map outlining good mining spots Beaufort had been generous enough to provide. Really helped, considering neither Wicke nor Circe knew the first thing about mining or metals. They probably should have asked more questions. Then, a shadow fell over the map as the human looked up to see a shovel, raised high over his head with seemingly no wielder- “OooooOOOoooOoOoo…” Went the shovel. “Just give me the damn thing.” Wicke swiped the shovel from the unseen holder and jabbed the head into the earth to lean on it. “Y’know a “oh wow