a mess of these old themes

He parted from Oleander and Spider to do some exploring of his own. If they were insistent on being a bit more dangerous, he wanted no part of it. It probably wasn't wise of him to leave the Heir and lead healer of the Armada alone, but he wasn't their bodyguard. Wasn't their keepers. If they wanted one, they should've asked someone else.

Walking slowly, his matching red gaze sweeping from one spire to the next, he takes note of everything. How the spires reached up toward the blood-red sky, tilting at different angles in no such direction. They appeared metal in nature, rusted along the sharp edges and smooth around the holes stretched through them. Closer to the ground, when the holes stopped, carvings began to peak up through the disturbed dirt. Seemingly pushing through the earth as if it were no trouble at all, these towers commanded notice.

Still unsure whether he should be inspecting the spires themselves or the ground they protruded through, Wilder notices the girl also wandering through. His gaze lingers on her a moment before letting out a calling chuff. Maybe she has some ideas.

"What do ya think of it?" Wilder asks as he nears closer to her.

"Wilder"