Rabbit-leonine like grass dwellers, for flavour
Magical miniature blue oxen. Tufted.
They hop, they bleat. They shed their skins.
In an isolated mountainous region, the local miners build their stone huts right next to the sarcophagi of their dead. In the winding tunnels of their mines, the spirits of their ancestors toil alongside them, sensing where the best deposits will be found and guiding their picks' strokes.