"GITHYANKI could be here," she thought. "I've never been in this region before. There could be GITHYANKI anywhere." The cool breeze felt good against her wizened skin. "GITHYANKI ARE MONSTERS, NOT PEOPLE," she thought. Rosymorn Monastery Trail (Ambient Music) reverberated throughout the entire vicinity, making it pulsate even as the 9 gp contents of the Amnian red circulated through her old veins and washed away her (merited) fear of aliens in broad daylight. "With a GITHYANKI egg, I could make a fortune," she said to herself, out loud.