Polaris was bright.

Perhaps that was maybe a redundant observation, but this room was a dynamic of charged crystals and cast shadows. One could go from a dark crevasse to the full blinding might of the Spire's magic.

And that was precisely where Hysteria found herself, watching the brilliant magics spark and dance. Her first instinct was to charge at it like a moth to the flame, but luckily for her, the searing heat that arcs when one gets to close was more than enough to make her think twice.

"Woah... pretty," she decides to say, sounding not unlike a young amazed child. She wasn't a child, not anymore, but her playfulness had endured long since.

She could sit here a while, fins fanning to bask in the magical power (from a safe distance away).

Though, as nice as getting her eyes burned out by the subterranean equivalent of the sun is, she really ought to do something else. Her mind wanders back to the Collector, who she hasn't really talked to recently. Hysteria still wanted to impress her father, though.

That gives her something to do, at least. She's also heard of others seeking stones and enchanted items. Maybe she'll get lucky and find enough for everyone to share!

...Or not.

As Hysteria scampers and prowls across the area surrounding the Spire, they find a whole lot of nothing. And more nothing. Don't forget the nothing.

Well, the Collector didn't find all of his neat stuff by sitting around idly. Maybe she's just not LOOKING HARD ENOUGH.

Pink eyes glare around, as she searches a nook in the rocks.

Nothing shiny! Where is it all!?

You'd think in this garden of lights and shadows around the Spire, something would catch Hysteria's eyes. But there is a woeful lack of anything cool or awesome or neat.

Her gaze shifts back to the intoxicating glow of the Skystone, alluring like a candle to some poor moth. Maybe pieces of that will do? Something tells her she shouldn't touch it, even as much as she wants to throw herself into the magick's crackling embrace.

So she sniffs around, plowing around, this time searching for something to carry or hold fragments of the Skystone with.

There, in a nook, a penumbra cast by another crag, is a scrap of rough canvas. Nothing huge, but barely large enough to use as a small pouch or wrapping. Turning it over in her claws, Hysteria wonders if it'll be enough, if she needs something bigger or heavier to carry the stones with, but there's nothing else she sees in the area.

Here goes nothing, she thinks, shifting her gaze up to the looming Spire. Maybe she doesn't touch it, but instead the smaller pieces around the base. A claw gloved by the canvas reaches out, probably a bit more clumsily than Hysteria had hoped to be.

With a hiss she'd drop the Skystone, shaking the burned paw like it would somehow ease the pain. That's what you get for playing with fire. Not that Hysteria really had much in the brains department, though.

Maybe not that one, she thinks, eying the offending gem warily. Shifting the piece of canvas in her (very in pain) talon, she reaches for a different stone, hoping her luck will be better with this one.

"Ouch! Yikes! Owie!" she sputters, now having claimed her prize. The Skystone hurts, hurts a whole lot, but if there's something The Collector taught her was that everything has a price. This gem's price is all of the annoying blisters it is going to leave.

Hysteria eyes the rest of the Spire, but the heat and energy is getting to her, and she's starting to feel like she's being baked alive. I'll cut my losses now, she thinks, before struggling away on three paws.

Hydra was a long walk away. Hopefully she'd make it there sooner than later.