7 in the afternoon

This woman seemed pleasant enough, and Lyra stepped fully onto the dry land, shaking off brusquely away from the black wolf to get the excess water out of her coat. Each paw got shook vigorously individually, a grimace on her face as she flung the water off before plopping her butt down onto the ground. The question was something she wished she had a better answer to, and she shook her head slowly. "Utterly clueless," she said quietly. "I've been gone a couple years from my family. Came back to a sky that didn't have a rising sun, only a horizon, and days later that night had fallen. I had at that point run into the infected and generally avoided the crystals and the mushrooms myself. I didn't like what they did to the prey, to the wolves. It definitely made hunting even more difficult; I refused to hunt any infected creature. I didn't know what eating it would do to me. I lucked out by only losing a bit of weight and going a bit hungry, and that was only due to me staying in Southern Boreas compared to other regions which are even less plentiful, especially in Winter." The infection bothered her. Why did it happen? Why was it spontaneously disappearing? She saw the fragments off of prey animals, though she hadn't yet talked to wolves who were infected since the rising of the sun to see if the crystals and mushrooms coating their bodies had also been removed by the blue fireflies before they disappeared.

"Speech" "You"