Today’s finds:
Clawfoot greyshoom – Grows on greybark trees close to the border of the Enchanted Forest. Nutty taste. Definitely poisons (spicy). Would go great in a soup with Morning-Dewmoss and onion.
Blood red maw moss – Deep, Deeeeeep red and black carpet type moss that grows on deadwood in the Uncanny Valley. Bitter but smells good. Will probably use for Mimic’s bedding.
Strangegod’s Antler – This was dropped by the phantom in the U.V.. It looked me directly in the eyes. I froze in place. It formed from black smoke and damp moisture into an amalgamation of needles forming an elk. It came so close I could taste it on my skin. It opens it’s mouth and whispers...
I went to the place the Sorceress told me about. The Springs are an odd place where Inky-Caps reach high into the sky and periodically get knocked down and eaten by other Jellies like me. I used to be one of them...but now I’m kinda sick of the taste…
There’s several, large clearings that have odd circles of patterns engraved in the dirt. There are odd rocks that shot up from the ground like petrified trees. Most of them hosting at least 3 different varieties of moss. I made sure to scoop some in my bag (for snacks). More of these rocks where in the forest- eaten over by tree roots and other flora. Some of these rocks have small marks and symbols carved into them. Some resembling birds and deer, others dashes and dots. I’m pretty sure it’s writing, but...with tiny pictures? I’m stumped. (reminder, doodle symbols just in case)
I took an alternate route back to the stump. I came across another circle of ruins. Unlike the last one, though, this one felt...heavy. Like there was something more there than just grass, dirt, and waning sunlight. I’d stopped in it’s center and looked down for what felt like minutes, but the setting sun and night-whistles said differently. The night is stupidly dangerous, but I...could not leave this spot.
Something inside of me aches. I wanted to howl into the night. I wanted to tear away at the night-things that would tear away at me.
But I couldn’t. I just stood there, staring at the faded cobblestone center without moving an inch.
I do not know how I got back. I don’t remember. All I know is I taste night-thing blood. It’s awful.
Night-thing blood and flesh made me sick. I didn’t even know I could expel. It gave me the shakes. The sorceress (somehow) got the Mimic to go out and collect some herbs from the western lake. It worked. I asked the sorceress how she knew this would help. She had no idea and went back to watching her glowing scry-thing.
So I took the Mimic and went back to where I lost track of time only to find a pile of near clean bones and another pile of flattened, spiritless jellies. Now, my ‘family’ of jellies are usually quite spirited. They climb on everything and eat whatever they choose to dissolve. Turns out night-thing meat didn’t just make me sick, but some of the others too. Not that these have eyes like me, but if they did they’d probably be closed in misery.
I threw some herb to each- about 4 of them...assuming they didn’t combine into those 4 and there’s more- before their melancholic buzzing turned into nearly offensive pings. The herbs were rank as hell but medicine is medicine. In maybe a few minutes there were ringing and slipping around as normal as a slime could be after eating too much-night thing.
Jellies don’t communicate with words, but with rings. Like chimes of differing tones and such. Highs for upper moods, lows for...well, low. Quiet. Loud. Like any would communicate for any reason. These bundle of breathern ‘cursed’ at me at first- quick rings and pings with alternating pitches- then ‘explained’ how they found the the night-thing half dissolved and thought it’d go to waste leaving it to the bugs and fungi...in so many rings. To their detriment, it made them sick for most of the morning. How regrettable they took their endless hunger out on this dead thing...they said in so many pings.
And if they could talk in words they’d ask, ‘And what of you, walking one? Why did you come to this place? Was it to have the dead night-thing? Well too bad for you, all that’s left is bone.’
“I had my fill earlier. I’d rather not go through that again.” I spoke back. But when they russled in disapproval at the words, I translated it into ringing. ‘Do you all know what this place was?’
They wiggled slowly like leaves in wind. They had no idea. They had no concept of time or place. They just know that they are here in this place because there was food. And here was always here and it’s always been. The details- to them- were unimportant. I was washed with disappointment…
The Mimic seemed to be the only happy one. It didn’t waste any time cracking into the night-thing’s bones. Nothing bothered a sentient teapot…
I’ll tie the drawings that I made in here when I figure out how to do it. I’d thought the Sorceress may remember something. But doubt it.
Nobody remembers anything here…