on the digestive nature of tangleweeds

OIA'I'O

and i asked myself about the present:

You watch Kai move away, edging towards one of the creatures that may or may not be nothing. Or it might be a predator in disguise. Even with this suspicion having a non-zero probability in your mind, you don’t call out and warn your twin. He is able to make his own decisions, and if one of those ends up killing him, then so be it. It will, in all likelihood given how the two of you will age. The world will kill you long before your organs fail (especially given the experiments the pair of you have been conducting to that end).

You do the mental equivalent of pursing your lips (which for you is merely remaining still). Grasses began to weave their way up your arms, and soon you are one with the grasses around you. Even your bright blue eyes are dimmed to a dusky-wheat colour as you ponder what Kai has said. Frey. The herald. You remember now, though you turn to your notebook for confirmation. It is one of the reasons you take such fastidious notes after all; part of what you are is human, and humans are prone to forget and misremember.

“No.” You confirm, looking up and causing some of your own camouflage to fall away. “Nothing larger than perhaps a wolf. Even then it could only sustain a small pack.” That anyone has survived here is impressive given the lack of resources. That in itself leads you to believe that Frey likely has had more to do with the success than was previously communicated to you.

“I wonder if Frey can give us a reliable account of the past three hundred and nine years.”

how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep