If you value your Life
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The wilder game of this Biome has made quite the show in these recent Hunts. My favorite game, the Furries, heve been digging burrows and buildings dams; shaping some nasty mazes for my WereCivets to fall victim to!
Weary messengers cry out that our supply lines have been cut off. They were so weak at heart that we had to kill them.
Chirandu: the Heart. Living to true yourself until the last thump of ya very organs. We WereCivets are not tendered Gathereres, were craving Hunters!
The Bless•ed have been scheming for Agriculture and whatever lazybody philosophy they can armchair. We can’t die in a rocker with brittle bones skin so soft a breeze give ya the chills
I quite enjoy how the furries have made things a wee more interesting! Surpises, suspenses and poisons; just another S short of an alliteration but who can blame them. They keep putting on a show like this and nobody would care about a flimsy thing like Titles and forgettable slogans.
To think that this Laidback attitude has followed my WereCivets into new Biomes is frightening in itself. It’s not the first time that we’ve had to lean-off the some fat from our muscles.
One can’t hunt with an unreliable body; this hunting party cannot press on with poisoned limbs. You have to amputate if you value your life, even if your way of living changes.
And because of these repeated surgeries, we’re down a walking leg from the ankle down and two arms; one from the forearm and the shoulder on the other. Aye, this is quite the challenge when facing the games’ drawn-out mazes.
Ya think they made the mazes knowing our condition? Mah~, they don’t have a race able to scope past our natural Hunting and perception.
The only thing around are some acidic slimes. The buggers are quite eager to hunt us so this only made more whimpers to kill off.
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- Anthea Gardener
