The sand sprite tilts her head at Vuvi, blinking her big, golden eyes, a faint shimmer of magic clinging to her lashes like dew that refuses to burn off.
"What do you mean… my story?" she asks, head tilting further.
Vuvi groans in that particular way reserved for people who've dealt with entirely too many weirdos, already rubbing her temples like this conversation is aging her a century in real time.
"It's… It's just how we do things, okay? The sad lady tells us her tragic life story, Pip does his magic thing, the day's magically fixed, and then we're off to go ruin someone else's week." She makes a circular "wrap it up" motion with both hands. "So if you could, y'know, hurry it up. We have places to be. Wet dreams to fulfill."
