It stood low to the ground, sleek like a cat but shaped more like a fox, with three eyes and horns of glass. It grazed gently from a patch of glowing moss and didn't react to his approach.
Argolaith stopped and watched.
The creature was peaceful.
It gave off no hostility, only curiosity. One of its eyes turned toward him, glowing faint blue, then it returned to its feeding.
Elyrion was generating more than plants and landscape. It was forming a self-sustaining ecosystem.
Something clicked.
He knelt and sketched the creature, noting its form and the plant it ate. A self-grown realm wouldn't be complete with just trees and sky. It needed life—balanced life. And somehow, Elyrion knew.
He stayed for a few hours, studying more flora and capturing gentle pulses of magic from some of the strange rocks lining the hills.
They shimmered with slow, radiating mana—perfect for building structures that could resonate with the realm's flow.
