Brynhildr kicked a small chunk of marble down into the gully below, intent on the sounds it made on it's way down. Cloink, crack, chuck, smack. She chuckled and pushed a larger chunk down after it. She hummed as that was splintered into smaller bits as it collided with the ground below. She was tempted to move further in, inspect all she could see, but there was this stupid border in her way. She scoffed. It was just fucking selfish to ward others away from a place like this. Looking around, the living ember sought a larger specimen yet. She lit upon one that sported a vein of gold running throughout the milky body of the rock itself. Cliff forgotten she approached, rolling the rock this way and that with considerable effort, marveling at how the metallic addition sparkled in the weak autumn light. Well hello there, she thought, chuckling. It was certainly pretty, and that was enough for her to whirl around, begin searching for more bits here and there. She made her way up the slope, digging through scree and nosing over this and that, all to no avail. She sat back with a sigh and a thump, eyes narrowing. Whatever to you too, rocks. Ugh. She rolled her eyes, trying to convey to the stubborn mountain that she was not pleased with it's apparent reluctance.
"Speech"
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