MAGICKA LEVEL 100%
RESTORED TO 100%
The rift--so often swirling with quiet energy, but still--shimmered and distorted as Bebby drew close.
A cool wind seemed to blow through, just a short blast, something that smelled of pine needles and earth; and in tumbled something... strange.
It was a flute, though perhaps the cat-creature wouldn't yet know it as such; and though made from primitive materials, it was both well- and lovingly-crafted. The darkish grey-brown wood had been carefully sanded and polished, though it kept long bumps along its length. The grain of the wood ran perfectly along the flute, so that it seemed to carry lighter and darker lines from top to bottom. Slender vines and leaves, like ivy, had been painstakingly carved along the sides and bottom, and swirling up and around the holes at the top; these, too, were polished smooth.
It was somewhat heavy, for what it was, though very small for a flute: only about nine inches long, made for carrying in a rucksack or the like. Judging by the soft smell of wilderness that still clung to it--of forest and leaves--someone had been travelling with it in the woods before lobbing it through the rift.
Why had it been discarded? Had it? Whatever the case, it was here now; and only Bebby was there to see it bounce gently off the floor, undamaged.
@Bebby