Egress Unveiled - The Druids ft. Ga’Morkt n Oremizume

Well, the Druids weren’t lying when they said they have a slug problem. The gooey, pale blobs of flesh are everywhere, devouring everything in the gardens!

Gå’Mørkt hesitates at the rocky edge of one of the gardens, eyeing the slowly slurping creatures, holding the handle of a basket in his jaws. He glances at Oremizume in question, silently asking if he is ready to get this over with.

Oremizume watches the blob, with hackles rised and disgust on his face.

If there is something that he never touched before, it is a giant white slug. It is slimy. And wet. And slippery.

Surely not something that one would find in Thedale.

"...Why do I have to DO IT? YOU DO IT! I CAN HOLD THE BASKET!"

He squeaks, with a high pitched voice, while the slug slooooowly moves on the rock, looking for the next plant to devour. 

Oremizume would prefer to fight ten Zataros together than touch that thing. He tried poking the slug, and now his paw is covered in slimy mucus and he is quite sure that he'd prefer to only have three paws instead of three and a slimy one.

Gå’Mørkt snickers, dropping the basket. 

"Hehehe, here, ya baby. Hold the basket, then. I don't mind getting my claws dirty."

He reaches out with a wing arm, curling one talon under so he's only using a single claw, and lightly pokes one of the slugs. It shrinks and curls up, sensing danger, and the empyrian waggles his eyebrows.

Oremizume feels like he might throw up, looking at the slug foaming and shrinking on itself. 

"Don'ft play wihf if! Juff- Quifk, puf if in fe baskef."

They vayron struggles to talk with the handle of the basket in his mouth, while looking at Ga'Morkt all upset. His brows and lips are scrunched in a nervous frown.

Seeing that viscid blob squirm, he closes his eyes and tries to stay as still as possible, looking like a stone statue.

Gå’Mørkt rolls his eyes and scrapes the slug off the rock and into the basket. 

"There. Now just hope they don't crawl up and give you a smooch~"

He moves on, starting to pick and poke each of them into the basket, one by one. Their weight piles up quickly.

Oremizume looks like he could drop dead on his feet at any moment, as he watches the slugs move around in the basket.

'Stay there, stay there, stay thEHEHEHER-'

His thoughts depart and a small scream leaves his mouth as a slug starts crawling on the side of the basket, and since it is nearly full, the slug is really close to Oremizume lower jaw.

"Ga'Moffrf! Heffffp!"

He wants to drop the basket, but the terrain under their feet is not flat: the basket could flip and spill all those terrifying blobs back on the ground.

The vayron doesn't realize how much of a fool he seems, much to the amusement of a few young Haedian Druids, that are perched on some high rocks and are watching the show unfold under them.

Gå’Mørkt cackles as Oremizume starts to panic, but finally he reaches out with his slimy claw and scoops the basket away from the smaller vayron. He gives the basket a small shake, and *shhlurplop!* the slug falls back into the basket with the others. He then transfers the load to his prehensile tailtip, which curls around the handle and holds it easily behind him.

“Sheesh, Zuzu, you’d think they were rabid beasts with the way you’re squealing,” he teases. “We still have to get rid of these-“ he hesitates, glancing up at the gathered Druids, “-er.. release, we have to release these somewhere far away.”

"I'd prefer to burn them all.."

Oremizume grumbles, quietly, so the druids wouldn't be able to hear. He looks around, moving some plants with careful paws, and after finding, luckily, no more slugs, he turns to Ga'Morkt.

"Yeah. We can go release them now." he says, and starts to walk down from the small hill they are on. The can release those beasts in a small patch of grass and not-so-useful plants, a bit far from the garden they took them, so they wouldn't return. 

"I still think that they should release them into fire."

After a few minutes, they reach the place the druids told them. It was a nice garden, a bit overgrown with weirdly glowing weeds, that had half-eaten leaves. Oremizume, seeing some shiny substances on the grass and those half-eaten leaves, stops abruptly. 

"You can drop those... Slugs over there." He points at a three which is kind of far from where they are, as if the slugs could turn back and chase the vayron if they see him.

The empyrian smirks at Oremizume’s remark, but keeps silent as he follows him away from the Druids’ gardens. Once they’re in the clear and well out of earshot, he leans his dark head down near the pinkish vay with his signature, twisted grin.

“I have an even better idea~” he rumbles in an almost sing-song growl, “Perhaps we could bring the slugs to those Forgotten? I heard that the young haedians will hunt and eat these things. It’s not cruelty if we’re helping others, right?”

"...That's not a bad idea. At least, no more leather-soup I guess..."

Oremizume shivers at the thought of a SLUG SOUP. That would be worse tasting that a leather soup, he bets. But... The forgotten might need the nutrients that those slugs have. IF, and that's an important IF, the slugs aren't poisonous. 

"Two things. One: we must ask the druids if those... Things are edible. Second: YOU carry the basket. I'm not going to carry it again."

He makes a disgusted face, as if he was a pup that just bit a sour fruit. He hopes Tonari, the Omii'ka that rides him sometimes, never discovers his hate for slugs: knowing her, he could wake up covered with those slimy things.

"-Say, Ga'Morkt... You are NEVER going to travel to Thedale, RIGHT?"

Yeah, he must avoid them meeting.