Nina, emboldened by Xalxar's grudging agreement, yet still trembling slightly, finder her voice. "Are... the remains all in one place, or... scattered?" She asks, her voice barely a whisper in the echoing cavern. The crystal in her hand pulses faintly, a counterpoint to the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of Rex's tail against the cavern floor. He whines softly, a low rumble in his chest, his gaze fixed on the inky blackness beyond the immediate reach of Nina's light spell.
Silence descends once more, thicker this time, pregnant with anticipation. The only sound is the gentle crackling of the strange herbs in the wooden box she clutches tightly to her chest. Then, a low chuckle, deep and resonant, echoes through the cavern. It's not unkind, not exactly. More like a sigh of ancient amusement.
"Scattered," Xalxar's voice booms, each syllable carrying the weight of centuries. "Like leaves on a winter wind. the Whisper Wood claims what it will. But... a trail remains. A faint echo of their final moments. Follow it, child. If you can.
A faint shimmer, almost imperceptible, appears in the air before Nina. It takes the shape of a twisting, luminous path, a silver thread winding its way into the deeper recesses of the hollow oak. It pulses softly, like a heartbeat, beckoning her forward. Rex, sensing the shift in the environment, nudges Nina's hand with his wet nose, a low growl now replaced by a softer whimper. He seems to understand the direction they must take. The air itself seems to hum with barely perceptible energy, a tangible vibration that seems to resonate with the crystal in Nina's hand. the scent of damp earth and decaying wood fills the air, mingled with the sharp, unfamiliar fragrance of the herbs from the box. The journey has begun in earnest.