I'm going scavenging!Username: m0r1bund
Wermz I'm sending:
Naphtha โ any pronounsTimes scavenged: 10
City Outskirts: 10
City Ruins: 0
The Fetch โ She/heTimes scavenged: 6
City Outskirts: 6
City Ruins: 0
??? โ ???Times scavenged: 2
City Outskirts: 2
City Ruins: 0
Location: City Ruins
Link to last scavenge session: Someone's missing...extra:Mossclaw3706 wrote:The evening air crackled with warm tension despite the cooling of the dust beneath them. Guilla stared back at the two strangers, casting a glance up at the aglow werm perched on the sign, hoping to meet their unrelenting gaze. Their tooth necklace caught the brilliant light, and when Guilla fidgeted with it, it sent a reflective glint bouncing around the sand-blasted surface of the sign.
"What are you two here for?" Guilla asked earnestly, turning their attention back to the duo. They themselves had a myriad of reasons for trawling the Wastelands, but, as for being here at the foot of the beacon of light, well...Guilla wasn't even sure why they had come. Maybe the duo could enlighten them [pun devastatingly unintended].
โThe lightshow. What else?โ The merchant says. He grinds his jaw like heโs working away at an invisible sprig of grass. โSayโฆ Maybe youโd help out a poor auld pariah of the waste. Whaddya say?โ
The Fetch smacks the back of his paw against the other wermโs shoulder. The merchant barely reacts. He hisses urgently into the merchantโs earโGuilla only catches bits and pieces, but it sounds something like โweโ and โhadโ and โa deal.โ
โMe and my, uh,โ The merchant middles his hand. โ
Associate here, weโve got a business proposition for little miss Chromatic Aberration. Butโฆโ
The Fetch scowls. โIt wonโt talk to him. As usual.โ
The masked werm sniffs impassively. โHey now. It wouldnโt talk to you, neither.โ
โAt least Iโm still on speaking terms with the Guild. And that half-furred freak.โ The Fetch retorts. โIf I didnโt know better, Iโd reckon heโs gone out because of you.โ
โNโaw, now look what youโve done. Youโre gonna upset our guest!โ The merchant makes a grand show of patting Guillaโs shoulders comfortingly. The Fetch rolls his eyes, just as the merchant leans in and whispers, through grit teeth: โCโmon, grub. Letโs make a move.โ
[%^D feel free to snip, mods. Thank you so much for all that you do!!]