Ibu had been traveling for awhile.
There had been dunes and abysses, buried hollows and sequestered yardangs.
There still was sand, sand, and a lot more sand.
Frankly, her own essence had much sand to offer.
She wore more sand than clothing. She breathed sand. She smelled sand. She saw sand...
"Honestly? No idea."
Well, at least that had proven she was very much so still injured. Spontaneous recovery would've been too frigging weird.
After being flicked, Pickles peeled herself out of the mud, propping her thoroughly spattered head up on her hands as she faced her considerably more...
NZDHFCCaAhdtfchmi
THAT'S
THAT'S ABSOLUTE PERFECTION
YOUR DETERMINATION IS UNSURPASSED
Let alone the artistry of the WOOOOOORM
HIS PRECIOUS FLIPPING FACE
please enter him in whatever art competitions you have access to. please. /srs
Pickles took a long moment to evaluate her current situation after the events to actually make it so had transpired.
For one, she was free of goat.
For two, she was now in the presence of the thing that had relieved her of goat.
So she found it safe to figure that her level of peril had...
Terran loafed around somewhere on Marsh Colony land. He'd woken up feeling particularly motivated and had accomplished much.
That is to say, he'd crawled a full ten strides to the most local stream and gnawed on aquatic vegetation.
He was so very beneficial to his colony.