Somewhere on the icy slopes between the caves and the healer's haven of Imil, we stumbled upon none other than Pepper, the missing little squirrel from the woods. He can talk, like the others. Every night, he says, strange ribbons of magical light shimmer in the skies far to the north of his home; he used to watch them from the safety of his nest and wonder what in the world they could mean. Since he was struck on the head by one of the psynergy stone fragments cast from the eruption of Mt. Aleph, he has been consumed by the desire to find them and discover their purpose and meaning, as well as his own--much to the chagrin of his parents, who would much rather he stay at home and help tend the new generation.
Ambitious or not, the little guy almost froze to death out here. We'll escort him to Imil, but I know what he seeks cannot be found there. The lights are visible from the town but their source is much further north, in the uncharted icy wilds. After we're finished with business at the lighthouse, I'll return him to his parents, as promised.