So that chant you have- don’t hurt the babies, don’t hurt the babies, don’t hurt the babies… Yeah, that one. It was getting a little hard to keep up with that because of how much pain you were in. It was like you were being crushed- like a tree had fallen down upon you, and then ten more trees had done the same thing. Oh, and then somebody caught those trees on fire, and left them all to burn you, leaving you as nothing but a pile of ash on the filthy, muddy ground. The pain has been terrible, and has only gotten worse. For all the fights you’ve been in, all the spars and challenges you’ve tested your body with, you have never felt so terribly broken as you have been lately. Of course, there is only one solution…

Having made your way to the ocean and gathered your beloved plants (hallelujah, thank the Gods that they are growing once again). Of course, having gathered them, you immediately begin to ingest them… The whole world dissolves into chaos.

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The bag on your shoulder is stuffed to the very brim with your locoweed plants, the seams bulging as they strain to contain all of the vines that you stuffed in there. Your horseshoes click against some rocks as you stumble over them- except they aren’t rocks at all and you’re kind of hella confused about why it is that giant tortoise (the rocks) are letting you stop on them in the first place. And why didn’t you see that it was a tortoise until you were on top of it? Dammit. Fuck the Moon Goddess.

Stumbling a few more steps, thinking as you fumble and fall about that at least you can’t hurt the babies while you’re all the way… well… wait. Where are you, anyways? “Hey!” you shout out to nobody in particular, slamming your hoof against a random nearby tree (or is that a rhinoceros you just kicked?). The high is so good and you’ve waited so long for it, but you can’t figure out what to do about the images that may or may not be reality. Cantering a few steps away from the presumably angry rhino, you come to a sudden halt as you suddenly find yourself trapped in a swirling vortex of butterflies (the willow tree).

Great. A butterfly tornado. Just what the doctor ordered.

You’re about to plan your brilliant escape from said tornado when your fuzzy vision catches sight of some creature. The master of the butterflies? Perhaps. But then, you never imagined that the master of the butterflies would be even uglier than you. You mean… you’re skinny and all, but your face… well, your face definitely doesn’t look as jacked up as hers does. “Hey!” you shout again as the sound from all the butterfly wings rises in your ears. It’s too damn noisy in here. “Knock it off… or I’ll make you.” Your demand is all but useless, since she’s not actually doing anything, but you don’t really know that, do you?

Lowering your head to the ground, you adopt a base wide stance as you try to keep yourself from toppling over. Your drugs are disorienting enough- the sounds of the butterflies is just making it worse.


OOC| Anything that seems weird is because Oxy is hallucinating, due to a quest he is on.

Oxy