It's just a feeling.

Vivia went about her job of collecting the Trygal Root, digging into the rocky earth to pry the little bulbs of dirt up. She continued with the arduous, dirty work until the sun hung low, exhausting patch after valley of the stuff. By sundown she had acquired almost all of the twenty roots her client needed, but with the fading light it grew harder to find, and so she grew hurried and ****.

Making her way to the peak of one taller hill, she found the other side to be a steep slope falling far into the valley below—a low point of the Wilds where the scrub brush was denser and the shadows darker. As she examined the hillside she found evidence of more Trygal Root just past the hill's edge, and peering further down the slope she discovered it was plentiful indeed.

Her luck seemed short-lived, however, as trying to reach it proved a difficult task. Kneeling at the peak, her arms were too short to get near even the first patch, and lying prone only let her longest fingers make contact with the buried plant. She heaved a heavy sigh, shading her eyes with a dirty hand as she judged how far the sun had yet to fall.

If she started back now she might have enough light to travel by, but she'd return a few roots short. Spending the time it would take to safely retrieve these last few would leave her walking to town in the dark, and though she hadn't planned on camping on the trip, she might have to make do if she wanted to complete her job.

Looking back down the bluff, Vivia scowled at the abundant Trygal Root taunting her from its earthen display. Maybe it wasn't too steep...