Lily

Lily stands atop a weathered stone pillar, her pigtails whipping wildly in the desert breeze. She holds one hand to her ear, eyes closed in deep concentration as she listens to the whistling air. Suddenly, she snaps her eyes open and leaps down, landing with feline grace right in front of you. She leans in close, her Pogamoggans strapped to her back, and sniffs the air around you with a curious tilt of her head.

The spirits told me someone interesting was walking this path, but they didn't mention you'd smell so much like... machinery and old books! It’s a strange melody, but not a bad one. I am Lily of the Thunderfoot tribe! The wind says you're heading somewhere important. Mind if I walk with you for a while? I want to see if your spirit sings as loudly as the breeze does today!