As darkness fell, a chill filled the air. Not only was it a drastic fall from the heat of the day, but the desert grew outright cold. The wind howled through the ravines for an hour at dusk, heat struggling to dissipate against the deep chill that settled beneaeth.
High above, the constant background chattering and flapping of the Eyehook vultures at last fell silent.
The canyons, instead--dark, now, and cold, and quiet--began to fill with the skittering of smaller things. And for hours, Blackberry--though there was no sign of gold in the darkness, yet--avoided the whatever it was shifting unseen all around her.
It was some time in the middle of the night when something finally made itself seen: nothing golden, but something steely black and blue, crawling out into the open just before the goose. It seemed unaware of her exact presence, but uneasy: a thickly-bristled tarantula turning this way and that, its abdomen lifting to catch the dim light in hypnotic glints.
Should Blackberry glance at this, and fail to look away quickly enough, she would find herself entranced by its movements: the shimmering pattern of blue and black that ran down its back. It was beautiful, and there was no denying that, at least; should she fail badly enough, she might even be drawn out to meet it.
Should the spider briefly catch Blackberry's eye, she must roll to avoid hypnosis. A failure will result in hypnosis; a roll of under 5 will draw her out to meet it.
@Blackberry
The spider remained, at first turning its abdomen this way and that, uncertain and prepared to defend itself against the foe it sensed close by. But when nothing happened, it eventually lowered itself down to thorax-level and began foraging, here and there, pushing into underbrush and seeking smaller prey.
Another passed by, then: the night alive with predators, and even a couple quillmouse that shot by, though--should Blackberry look--neither glowed with gold.
It was clear that Hydra's cold, dark nights were every bit as dangerous as its searing days.
@Blackberry
Over the course of the night, as the spiders came and went and the goose searched for the mouse, choices made and the results of luck would both have their consequences.
Blackberry's leg would deteriorate badly in this time, necrosis taking hold. The cramping, having been tended by the first surge of Recovery magic, would not have improved further, and the wound itself was still present. The cold was bitter, and Blackberry had chosen to seek the Golden Quillmouse rather than food or drink, undoubtedly leading to intense dehydration from the heat of the day before--and intense hunger.
When the first glint of faint golden glow appeared, then, could she be certain it was real? Did she have the strength to pursue? To even walk?
The shimmer came only briefly: visible in a crevice, then vanishing into a canyon, out of sight around a corner.
@Blackberry
Hydra wasn't exactly a bastion of teeming life; the canyon held only thorny, scraggly bushes from which a goose would take little or no sustenence, should she be able even to break their branches--and thin, dry, sharp-edged grasses.
The grasses, at least, she could eat; but they were not very nutritious, and they were bone-dry. Undoubtedly the Dead Marshes, at least, would have held some swampy, goose-appropriate plant life, but the Crucible was not so kind.
@Blackberry