As the veil of sleep slowly lifted, and consciousness eased its way into being, a wheezing breath was drawn in. A thick, phlegmy cough wracked his body and forced him to wake. Jarred forcefully from a peaceful night's sleep, but still groggy, he croaked out a soft sound of pain. Every little bit of his body ached like it never had before, from the ends of his fur to the deepest bits of marrow in his bones. Glassy emerald eyes struggled to open, crusted shut with sapphire gunk. Slowly, groaning with the effort, he lifted a paw to try and wipe the crust away from his eyes. He could already tell that a sudden illness had laid its claim on his body overnight, and he found pneumonia coming to mind. Fluid in the lungs, feverish, crusty eyes... it sounded right? the edge of his toe brushed against his eye, and panic tripped up his spine like lightning as pain sang through his veins. There were.. growths around the corners of his eyes. Carelessly rubbing the crust from his eyes had given him the freedom to open them, but the tears that welled in their place made him regret the action. "H-" hoarse vocals barely above a whisper, the young swamp dweller found himself wracked with a violent cough as soon as he tried to speak. The spit that dripped from the corners of his lips afterward puddled on the soft moss of his bed, glowing faintly in the darkness of his den. Fresh terror twisted sharply in his gut, and the tears that began to spill from his eyes were now ones borne of fear. It was so easy to forget that he was still barely more than a child, and though his family was all around, there was often no one around to hear him cry out. As the tears tracked down his cheeks, their gentle glow illuminated more and more of the little room around him. The scavenged glass jars on their little dug out shelves reflected the blue light right back, and offered him a warped reflection of the vile creature that sat in his bed. These pulsing lights were all too familiar. "Mama?" he whimpered, forgoing the deep rooted independence for the comfort and safety of the familiar. Each panicked breath, bordering on hyperventilation, gurgled unsettlingly in his chest and escaped in a very wet sounding wheeze. More of the glowing fluid dripped from his maw and oozed from his nostrils. As he cast his gaze downward, each movement of his eyes rolling in their sockets brought a fresh round of pain lancing through his skull and down his spine. With each passing moment the fever that had been building through the night was solidifying its grip on his brain and body, and when he managed to look down at his paws a choked cry of horror caught in the luminescent phlegm lining his trachea. Sprouting from the beds of his nails were tiny glowing mushrooms, the caps still tightly bound around the stems as they continued to rise into the open air. Foggy headed with his rising fever, he couldn't do much more than collapse into his damp, sticky bedding once more and begin to softly weep. Hoarse keening sounds died on his lips before they could meet the heavy air of the den under the roots of the old maple tree. He wasn't present enough in his own head to remember if Hoarfrost had returned to the den last night, nor to pray that Bug had begun to wake from his brumation and might hear the terrified crying of his companion. As far as his fever addled mind was concerned, the umber wolf was entirely alone, slowly rotting and all the while awake. "speech" thinking "others"

Lukina adapted as best she could, as she always had. She'd gone from one mess of a situation into the next and now it seemed the whole world was coming to an end. But what could she do about it? Not a whole lot. So Lukina busied herself herb hunting and crafting especially now that spring was around the corner. However, her hunting was much impeded by the strange glowing plants she wasn't allowed to touch and now a thick mist that had fallen on the land. Still, she diligently searched and crafted.

Tonight… today… no, no, it was definitely night. She had a fire going and was brewing a decoction of marshmallow root. Her companion Magnolia had developed a strange cough and she was eager to ease her companion's discomfort. She wanted to be careful though. She'd put together a mask for herself out of leather and a large condor skull.

Ulmaria, her snow leopard, twitched and looked toward Bog's den. She chuffed lightly and Lukina looked over, wondering if something was wrong. Well, she had been wanting to show Bog her new mask! Lukina slipped it on and trotted over to the den opening. "Hey Bog, check out my cool new mask." She stuck her head into the den and gasped. "Bog! What happened!" She stared at the strange glowing liquid pool in the floor and oozing from his eyes.

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021

"Speech!"
A feminine voice filtered through the haze of a fever, distant and vague as though it were passing through water before it reached his ears. This was likely a result of the slowly sprouting mushrooms that were travelling through his right ear canal, seeking the dim light of the open air through which to spread their spores further. "Mama?" he called out again, weakly. He fought to open his eyes, already beginning to crust shut from the thick ooze that was leaking from his tear ducts around the tiny bundles of stringy, bioluminescent lichen poking through the space behind his eyelid. Through the haze and the near total darkness of his den, he could see a pale figure looming over him. Her fur reflected the pale blue glow of the fungi that was steadily creeping out of the various orifices of his face. Furrowing his brows in confusion only brought more pain, stirring the sprouting fungi coming out of his eyes and dragging the not-so-smooth surfaces across the delicate skin of his inner eyelids. "I don't wanna die yet.." he muttered in Fennish to the unsettling spectre that was looking at him so funny.

Another wheezy breath filled his lungs, and something rattled in his chest. Irritation somewhere in his throat stirred a familiar sensation, and the young swamp dweller couldn't fight the violent sneeze that sprayed glowing fluid all over his bed. He was kind enough to turn his head away from the ghostly apparition, since angering the spirits further would likely cause him more suffering in the end. A soft whimper of pain escaped him as he settled back down onto his thoroughly soiled bedding. As he blinked blearily up at the spirit in his den, he could have sworn there was something about it that was familiar to him. He wanted to protect the pale wolf that was haunting his home, but he wasn't exactly sure why. "You should go, you'll get sick too." he warned, this time in the common tongue, aiming for stern and falling short by a mile. A feeble swipe of his paw towards the door, bidding her to abandon the infected hollow beneath the roots of the ancient maple.

Lukina could only stare in surprise as Bog mistook her for his mother. Oh that definitely couldn't be right. She noted the strange, shining ooze matting his eyes. At the mention of death her heart rate faster. "No, no, you won't die. I'll help you!" Her ears flicked forward at the rattling breath, her eyes and ears searching for symptoms without getting to close. "Ok, I'll go but only for a little bit. I'll make you some nice warm tea and get you a new blanket."

Lukina scrambled out of the den, barking to Magnolia to get a fire going as she grabbed her ceramic bowls and the herbs she wanted to use. Powdered marshmallow root was an obvious choice for a cough. She also added a bit of yarrow for fever. Lukina paced, it seemed to take the water forever to boil but eventually she had her tea made and poured delicately into a bowl. She set the bowl on a piece of rawhide and with Magnolia's help carried it into the den for Bog. "Here, try this. It should make you feel better. Magnolia will get another blanket for you."

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021

"Speech!"
There was that voice again, and it didn't quite sound like his mama. The spirit had its own voice, it wasn't borrowing that of a loved one- he could have sworn that's how the spirits worked. It sounded like the spirit was here to help him, promising that he wouldn't die. But then... would he have to continue suffering like this? Pneumonia didn't feel this bad, so he was suffering from something worse. Even in his fever addled brain, he knew that he was very ill, and there was something deeply wrong with his body. He cracked an eye open, watched the vague movements of the figure looming over him that signalled... something. His vision was just impaired enough that he couldn't quite tell what her mouth was doing, what kind of movements were happening with her ears. The lichen dappled yearling was left to simply trust the ministrations of the eerie, glowing spectre that was haunting his den. And just as soon as she'd appeared, she left. A commanding bark rattled his brain, the volume of her ethereal vocals created a vibration across his ear drums that rattled the fungi sprouting from the thin skin in and around his ear canal. The pain lanced through his skull far worse than any physical blow or migraine ever had, pulling a pained whine from his spore riddled lungs. His face was wet. Was he crying again?

Left alone, the stagnant underground air seemed to fall still all around him. Each second seemed to stretch into days before it passed him by, while every breath he took became a harrowing ordeal. Through the fugue, he could hear the faint sounds of movement beyond the mouth of his den. The unconscious, simple movement of his ears tipping in the direction of the unfamiliar activity brought a fresh wave of agony, this time powerful enough to arc down his neck and into his shoulders. His stomach rolled, but there was nothing in it to force out. He sucked a breath in through gritted teeth, trying to centre himself. Panic would only make things worse. That sounded right. Had he heard that somewhere before?

More sounds, coming closer. There was that ghostly figure again, leering at him from a height that seemed to rival the trees of the mangrove. She offered up a small bowl, filled with some concoction that steamed lightly. He couldn't smell whatever was inside, the cerulean fluid dripping from his nostrils was gradually filling the cavity of his sinuses and his sense of smell was gone. The spirit urged him to drink, that he would feel better if he did. A flower was going to go get him a blanket. Oh, how nice. Are the flowers blooming already? he thought to himself as he rolled unsteadily up onto his elbow, wobbling slightly until he managed to splay his forelimb out awkwardly to better balance his weight on it. With an aching slowness that betrayed the degree of his own discomfort, he leaned down to take a small sip. The lap of his tongue was more of a splash than anything, flinging droplets into the air to land in the hard packed dirt that covered the floor. It tasted like familiar herbs, but he couldn't put a name to them if he tried. The warmth of it seemed to spread through his chest and belly as soon as he drank it, like the warm winds of spring cutting through the mangroves as winter's grip began to loosen on the surrounding territories.

He lifted his head slowly to offer up a tired half-smile to the spirit, glassy emerald eyes half shut with exhaustion. "Thank you." he murmured, vocals rough and uneven.

Bog

The sickness deepens... You can't shake the feeling that the spores are affecting your mind... you feel less skilled. You lose 20 skill points.

You find a lucky rabbit's foot. Huh, better hang on to this.


You gain:  

• Lucky Rabbit's Foot- This rabbit’s foot glows in the dark, but it’s soft, shimmering fur is coated with a sticky, oily blue substance that reminds you of day-old blood...
  

You lose:

• 20 Healing Points- You can't seem to remember which common herbs are for healing and which are poisonous. Whoops.
  

Lukina found it a bit hard to see with her mask on but she could tell that Bog was listless. He wore a curious expression on his face and almost seemed to be looking through the world around him. At least he had the strength to sip the tea. She hoped it would be enough to help ease his symptoms for in truth she didn't know what else to do. She'd never seen or heard of any sickness like this before and she found herself wishing a little that Rœkia was here to guide her.

Magnolia returned with a small white tail deer hide and she assisted her companion in draping over Bog in hopes of making him more comfortable. "You're welcome. Take it easy and get your rest. I'll be back to check on you in a bit." Maybe she could catch some fish and make some broth for her friend. He'd need his strength to defeat this strange illness.

Firefly Shoppe - Lukina

It comes for us all... but you are safe... for now.

Your attention blurs and refocuses. IT feels as if you are in a dream as you find yourself alone in the mist. Fireflies gather and light the way to a table with a figure waiting behind it. On the table lay three items, with their prices beside them. "Choose w̶̢̧͉̥̻̟͈͙̽̉̆̿̈͒͋̓̇̍͌̇̎͠͝ì̵̢̝̄͐́͆̓̚ṣ̶̛͙̟͎̤̞̤͎̹̙̭̪͔̓̐̾̂͆̄͆͌̈̈́̏̚͜͝͠ȩ̴͔̱̗̜̾̉̀̓̀͆͛̊̂̍̕̚̚̚ͅl̵̢̦̲̼̠̖̜̺̮̜̺͋̈́y̴̧̨̧̪̗̥̘͇̾͑͗͜͠, and only choose o̷͕̭̊̃̌̊̏̀ņ̸̼͚͉͔̒͐̊e̵̮̯͛̔̀̑͜," the figure says, looming over the table as his eyes seem to peer into your soul. Are they... moving? "If you can afford it, that is. Beware, however, for there are many d̷̡̯͉̎̊̈́͐͠á̴̬̪̣̝̞̅̀̈́̄ṉ̸̢̠̤̹̥̙̜͋͆̚g̷̛͍̹̣̬̙͖̝̘̃̈e̷͓͕̖͓̝̤̿͐͐͜͠ŗ̵̤͚͔̟̹̳̽̒͝ş̸̛͓͔̩̥̦͛̊̈̾̐̒̓ ̴̺͔̃̇̆ahead." He does not seem like he's in the negotiating mood...


I̵̜̖͎͓͒̑̕n̸͓̗̘̫͉̗̻͐̔̿̊͆̋͝v̵̦̹̠͉̖̼̮̎̌͆ȩ̸͕̦͔̳̩̈́͜n̶͍̝̙̯̣̹̫̩͋t̶̟͈̟̲̜̙̣̋̿̓̆̅͊͝͝ŏ̶̼͊r̶̖͎̙͔̥͎͙͈̊̍͝͠y̴̧͔̭͒͆̉̕͝:

• Crystal Bath Bomb- 2 /
  It looks like a bunch of crystals, glitter, and plants rolled into some mud. The seller assures you it’s good for styling your coat texture exactly how you’ve always wanted it.
  
• Opaque Sack of Mushrooms/Crystals- 1 /
  Running out of event currency and not sure what else to spend it on? Gamble on this mysterious pouch and potentially find more mushrooms/crystals within it! Or perhaps something else!
  
• Xtra shrink potion- 2 /
  It comes in an extra tiny bottle. There’s barely even one drop!
  

Lukina left Bogs den and as she worked her way through the forest she felt her vision blur for a moment. She blinked rapidly and as she looked ahead she noticed the strange spirit again and his shop. She approached, pushing her mask up to see better what was laid out on the table. "Hello again!" She peaked at the objects, moving from one end of the table to the other. She didn't know what a bath bomb was and the other potion looked so small. She sat in front of the potion for a moment, wishing she had something to help Bog but she had her doubts this was it. "I'll take the Opaque Sack please and you can have my last crystal."

She hesitated for a moment then pulled out her jar with the firefly in it from last time. "Sir, I wanted to give you your firefly back. I'm afraid he'll be lonely by himself with out his other firefly friends." Lukina uncorked the jar to let the firefly go.

"I also wanted to ask, do you know how to cure the strange illnesses afflicting my friend? I gave him some marshmallow tea but was wondering if you know a better herb?"

Firefly Shoppe- Lukina

Looking pleased at her choice- well, as pleased as a faceless hooded figure could be- he set the opaque sack at her paws. He was quick to grasp the jar and scoop the firefly back up though, returning it to her in one swift movement. "Careful when you use this. This firefly in particular is lucky- perhaps save it for a moment when you feel your your luck has run out. Have you ever had a moment you felt like you wanted a re-do? Perhaps try it then.." The jar is placed back in her paws, no answer given to her last question before disappearing out of sight.



You gain:

• Opaque Sack of Mushrooms/Crystals- Running out of event currency and not sure what else to spend it on? Gamble on this mysterious pouch and potentially find more mushrooms/crystals within it! Or perhaps something else!
  

You lose:

• Currency (x1)- Used in Firefly's Shoppe, and perhaps elsewhere...