Going to the Gulley

Alright, if the Prairie was going to get a wall of grass as its identifier, then this place was going to get flowers or something like that, because it was overrun with the stuff. Even though flowers weren't his thing even Hyperion could admit it was pretty. And it was certainly better than the thorns and tangles of Gambit Briar. "It's pretty," he commented as he stepped into the greenery and began to poke among the flowers. "My sister would love this. She's a healer and I bet there's a lot here she could use." Hyperion thought he recognized some of the plants, but he wasn't sure. Cissy would know best.

He watched with hawkish intent was Shilah used ink - ink!! - on his map. Firstly, did everyone who wandered "well" make maps? Secondly, why hadn't he thought of ink? Dang, he was going to have to put more thought into the wayfinding thing. While his efforts hadn't failed him too spectacularly yet - he was still alive, after all, so win? - he certainly lacked the finesse of his two travelling companions. Their skill seemed to be serving them well. They knew what they were doing and Svala had offhandedly dismissed his question about being lost like she couldn't imagine such a thing. Their casual confidence had him paying far more attention to the landscape than he usually did.

Shilah mentioned the party and Hyperion, mistaking his reserved question for genuine interest, enthused, "You bet I was! It was wild, wasn't it?" He shook his head as though he couldn't believe all the things he'd seen and done that night. "I slept like a baby the next day. What about you? Did ya," he shot Shilah a sly look. "Have a good time?"