#{snippin'}

[the-real-moorbugs]

[The wind around them picks up slightly, before..]

Greetings, Bugs of the Moor....

@Town-of-grey-moor

Brink!! Why the hell's the wind talkin' to us??

I don't fucking know?? I'm just as confused as you are.

Uhm... Hi, whatever you are..?

HI

No- Yerk I wasn't talking to you, damnit!

((since you tagging yourself didn't work: @town-of-grey-moor))

[the-real-moorbugs]

[Yerk saw a Vicious Caranid lazily flying close to the ground.]

[They looked to be in terrible condition. A blue vine was wrapped around their shell, piercing their mask. Their stinger was hanging off by aforementioned vine, too.]

[@vicious-caranid]

The hell's up with you? An' why are ya covered in a bunch o' blue shit?

[Yerk hungrily looks at the vine.]

[the-real-moorbugs]

A green mantis approached the three bugs with a worried expression. Looks like they’re stressed about something.

“Excuse me for distracting you from your… holy work… But I need your help, bugs three. My friend is in dire need of someone to help them from a very dangerous infection. Do you have any information on a bug known as ‘The Knight’ or ‘Ghost?’ They are a warrior of… some kind. If not, then I still thank you for listening to my ask.”

@a-verdanian-mantis

Why aren't you a funny lookin' one! Naw though, we ain't heard o' no ghosts or knights. An' we're definitely not the best fer help with any sorta infection, last we had o' those almost all of us kicked the ol' bucket!

SICK? TAKE

[Yerk hands the mantis a dish of cut up Mites and Craws. It looks disgusting, but cuisine isn't exactly pretty in the Moors.]

[the-real-moorbugs]

wawoo

WAWOO

[the-real-moorbugs]

*a tiny vessel crawls up to all of them, staring curiously.*

@tec-and-nugget

Oi, the hell ya want? Can't ya see I'm workin' here?

HI

WHAT NAME?

[the-real-moorbugs]

yerk whyd you bite that childs tail. shes dying/dead bruh thats disrespect

HUNGRY

SHOULD'VE DEFENDED THEMSELF IF THEY DIDN'T WANT BE BITTEN

[the-real-moorbugs]

ya’ll are weird

The hell you just call me?!

That we are, strange bug. That we are.

[Crey glares angrily at Brink.]

[Yerk is too busy chasing a Mite in circles to know what is happening.]

[the-real-moorbugs]

A traveling bard was passing through Greymoor...

[https://youtu.be/2_YVZfXOVCg?si=wp2AsCDI9fwmpCdW]

[Yerk is just fucking breakdancing. Is this a song to breakdance to? No. Do fleas have arms to breakdance with? No. Does Yerk care about either of those two facts? Also no.]

[4/5]