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It turns out that if you have enough oincs, the mayor of Swinesbury will let you just buy a house the villagers aren't using. The shabbiest one in the town, with a gnarled, leafless spiky tree rising from its garden, but nevertheless a place to hide out from the storms of humid season and the vicious beetles that swarmed the rainforest in those foggy, damp conditions. Getting the money wasn't a problem; there were many hedges in need of haircuts around the town, and a greengrocer happy to take as many clippings as Wormwood could hand over. The old pig from the school was also very pleased with the carved stones Wormwood had found.

Once inside the shabby house, Wormwood dumped absolutely everything they didn't need on the floor. There was one room and everything from floor to ceiling was made of wooden planks nailed haphazardly together, which was a disquieting sight. Maybe they could get something to cover it up with later, besides the pile of odds-and-ends - sparkly rocks, bat skin, a chunk of Mant chitin, a bottle of antivenom, all sorts of things - taking up the corner. The overgrown lawn outside got to hold their science machine, but more importantly it was a patch of dirt to plant seeds in.

According to the science machine, they were going to need another machine that looked like a pig with wings if they wanted to get much use out of the sparkly rocks. However, that was going to have to wait, because as far as Wormwood could tell this town had absolutely no protection against lightning strikes save for hoping they came down somewhere far away from you. The round science machine at Milliways had taught them to build a lightning rod; they could make a few more of those to cover the area before they ran out of rocks.

--

There was no way around it. None of the pigs in town sold bird feathers, and they hadn't seen the door to Milliways in a while, so Wormwood was going to have to catch a bird themself. That meant they needed silk. And that meant stealing it from the spider-monkeys.

However, they wouldn't be going alone. They lobbed a hunk of purple insect meat into a thicket of snapteeth, a parent rooted to the ground and their three seedlings cavorting under the outstretched leaves.

"Hungry?" Wormwood called out, watching the snapteeth tear the ex-dungbeetle apart. They stepped closer and waved another piece of purple meat in the air; the snapteeth's snouts whipped around to face it. "Come get it!" they shouted, sprinting towards the nearest web-covered tree.

With the young carnivorous plants hot on their leafy heels, Wormwood threw the slab of monster meat underhand into a wad of sticky webbing, right between two hulking eight-legged apes. The seedlings took the bait, hopping straight past Wormwood and the spider monkeys; the monkeys howled and lumbered towards the snapteeth. Wormwood crept around the furious clash of flora and fauna and withdrew an axe from their backpack, whispering apologies to the silk-wrapped tree with every chop.

There was a crack from the tree above. The spider monkeys looked up. The snapteeth looked up. Wormwood looked up. The cocooned tree crashed to the forest floor, splintering into so much firewood across a particularly dense-boned ape's back; Wormwood tore a fistful of silk from the fallen cocoons and ran towards Swinesbury.
lonesome_moonflower: (Default)
Wormwood liked to sleep under the stars, but usually they chose a more secluded spot to do it in; they couldn't say why they'd picked the crumbling stone square just outside the forest canopy that night, as lush season turned to temperate season under the new moon.

They woke to a multicoloured lizard staring down into their face.

"Get moving, tree," said the lizard, shuffling backwards as Wormwood stood up. "Chop, chop!"

"Where going?" Wormwood asked the lizard, which was swiftly vanishing from sight as its skin rippled with the colours of the underbrush. It didn't answer, and they were left alone among the tall grass and ancient rubble.

And a machete, stabbed shallowly into the dirt. They took it; this wasn't the first time they'd used one, but they'd dropped the last one in the lake while being attacked by frogs. There was a metal ring, too, near another crumbling wall and some unfriendly brown flowers. With their new adventuring tools, they set off in the opposite direction from the rainforest.

----

Wormwood had a sneaking suspicion that wandering around in the painted desert picking up every rock they saw, then descending into a cave to break up even more rocks and take those, was not what the talking lizard meant by "get moving". But if this was going to be a day for achieving things, anything could be the key to their success. They'd also picked up two carved stones that were just lying on the ground near a spider-monkey nest; the pigs in town liked those. Maybe they would hold onto the reward money this time instead of spending it immediately on fancy pig food.

----

Usually Wormwood would have avoided the tall, noisy machines that walked on two legs and the stone platform they guarded day and night, but today they'd noticed that there was a slot in the stone that looked the right size for the metal ring. The machines weren't quick on the uptake; maybe Wormwood could run in, set the ring in place and run out again before they could react.

Wormwood dashed to the stone, their leafy digits wrapped around the curls of the metal ring. The pointy-hatted machine squinted its mechanical eye at them; the horse-headed one made threatening accordion noises. Wormwood slammed the ring into its track in one smooth motion and spun around to leave, then flinched and cried out as a sizzling ball of pain hit them square across the shoulders. Another one scorched its way across their hip as they ran with everything they had, and a third shot crackled past their ear as it missed by inches.

They hadn't been thinking about which way they were running. There was another nest of spider monkeys over here.

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Wormwood

October 2020

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