Yea, nah… the last time you charged into something new and exciting, you DIED. Sure, you got to get a massage and relax in a private magical bath with an extremely well-endowed Durher, and, like, Tzah-Tzie’s great and all, but THAT girl, hoo boy…

FOCUS, Ant! Gulping down those fond mamm-err, MEMORIES, you glance over at a very… well, neutral-looking Morook, if you’re honest! You’re gonna have to come up with a signal or something.

H-he can-

The words barely leave your lips before a sensation takes hold of your head and jerks it towards the Veeti’s scowling mug! Holding you in place like an invisible vise-grip, the same force pries your mouth open and limbers up your tongue! H-hey!

“I am speaking to you.” States the winged witch as her alien eyes bore deep into your own, “Answer me.”

Each syllable trembles with a faint echo like someone slowly turning up a microphone’s volume! Her words don’t carry malice, but a primal fear hatches in your gut as she stares you down… one that tells you this creature is not to be trifled with!

“Forgive my interruption-”

A trio of gasps escape you, TT’s, and Volka’s lips as Morook’s body ragdolls across the grove, landing in a heap on the other side!

“He…” The Chytree groans, not bothering to regain his footing, “He’s not from this world… and doesn’t know… ngh… The Mossy Manner…”

The Veeti’s gaze softens as you feel the unseen grip on your head slacken, if only just a little bit.

“‘Zat right?” Her gossamer wings buzz as she circles your head, her tiny claws gently examining your features. “My my~ Put that away, pup.”

You hear the faint ‘shhck’ as a very-embarrassed TT returns her blade to its sheathe.

“That’s better.” Finishing her investigation with an approving nod, the Veeti hovers away from you and over to the center of the grove. “You may rise.”

So you do! Nifty powers! Trying your best to brush the dirt and sap off of your robes, you indulge in an inward sigh of relief as Morook steps forward to take the lead!

>CONTD.