"What exactly is the Hollow?" Lucy asked, curiosity gnawing at him.
Before Bruma could answer, a soft rustling came from the center of the room.
Gindu was stirring.
"Let's wait until everyone's awake," Bruma said, still wedged awkwardly into the undersized chair, arms crossed over her chest. "I'm not repeating myself five times. It's exhausting."
A smile tugged at Lucy's lips as Gindu sat up slowly, one hand pressed to his temple, eyes squinting against the firelight. Relief bloomed in Lucy's chest—his friend was alive. Still breathing. Still loud, probably.
"What happened, wyrmling?" Gindu asked, voice hoarse and dazed.
Lucy shrugged, deadpan. "Oh, you know. We fought an immortal fog army, nearly died, and got rescued by a giant toad. Just your average Tuesday."
Gindu blinked, then turned toward Bruma. His gaze took in her massive frame, horned brow, and the slight smirk tugging at her lips.
"Greetings. You must be the toad, wyrmling?"
