Gileysefed Lan, gnome oracle
On the outskirts of the market, a green-haired gnome stands, biting his lip as his wide, lavender eyes scan the throng of much taller humanoids. The large, red-haired wolf sitting behind him sighs and flops to the ground, calling the gnome's attention to herself.
"Aw, Golf, you can't give up so easy," the gnome reassures the animal. "I'm sure she's around here somewhere."
The wolf raises her head and lets out a soft woof.
"Oh, I know what you're thinking, but it's not my fault. I mean, you've seen this, right?" the gnome digs into the saddlebags on the wolf, producing a neatly-stacked set of mobile cookware. "Look how well they all fit! It's brilliant! I had to look at it. It's not my fault I forgot to tell her."
There is an odd moaning in the wind, and the cookware in the gnome's hand pops into the air, spilling across the ground with a clatter. The wolf hops to her feet to avoid any of it landing on her head.
"You know, I think they're right," Giley says. He appears generally unfazed by the spontaneous eruption of pots and plates, moving to gather them all up again and return them to the wolf's saddlebag. "What we need to do is make some noise. Then she's bound to hear us, right?"
Giley rifles through a small pouch, eventually producing a small bit of wool.
"Talashia? Where are you? Come find me!" Giley says to the wool. Then he blows on it, wafting it up above the crowd. Suddenly, as if multiple people were all yelling in unison, a voice emanates from the almost-unseen bit of wool:
"Talashia? Where are you? Come find me!" rings out the chorus. The people in the market turn with a start, looking up into the air for a source of the repeating voice. Giley, looking up at his handiwork with a proud grin, fails to notice that he suddenly has a much wider space around him as the throng steers clear of the ghost voice's call.
"Do you think I need to add lights?" he asks the wolf without looking at her.
Golfinwerg simply flops back down on the ground with a whimper.