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Sparrow felt, y'know, like shit. And why shouldn't she? Mushrooms grew on the top of her head, down her neck, and along her chin and chest. Lions mane? Was that what it was called? That's what Friar had been calling it. It looked dumb. She looked like a horse... mixed with a lion... mixed with a wolf. And even if she tried to remove them- even trim them- it hurt and they bled and oozed blue! Well, she defaulted back to the pack land. The borders weren't marked and they didn't live like a pack here, but somehow it felt a little safer. Sparrow coughed a good bit, then dove into some nearby waters to wash all the ooze off, and also water the new shrooms, she guessed.