#needed to paint this before the snow melts. Been a dreadfully snowless winter this time sadly

[filurig]

– This… this has… has been here, the whole time…? Folke murmured, teeth chattering.

Accompanied by Gullmar, as well as the haeggir’s goat – they stood before the looming, bronze construct, whose strange, glowing fungus omitted a warm, bright glow into the frigid evening.

– Litahuala, is what it is, little lad, and it has been here longer than both you and I have been in this world, Gullmar chirped. 

He pointed at the clavarioid fungi, nestled at the center of the ornamental structure.

– This is why I had asked you for a lock of hair, see. Tossed it into the roots. The Irrbloss hungers for anything that it can take a hold of. And for a time, as it is sated, it treats you like one of us. Despite your featherless manner, hah! He continued with an amused chuff.