[ Ah, I see! :D ]
As far as weird things in Caido went, these ones were relatively harmless and easy to dispose of—physically. It was harder to clear the image of them burned into his mind, the rare but stressful dreams of giant pumpkins tearing through the forest with their sharp, gnashing teeth hunting for only one thing: manflesh. Or horseflesh. It was honestly worse to see a pumpkin thrice the size of his house mangling his horses than it was to die underneath a carpet of fist-sized gourds, but if Rory had to choose, he'd rather not have nightmares at all.
Pity he couldn't choose. And lucky they weren't thrice the size of his house or particularly efficient horse-killers. Bracing his body and particularly his right ankle, Rory gave one of the squash a well-aimed kick, wincing as the vegetable went flying. They might be small, but they were compact, and he knew he'd end up bruised if he kicked too many. Neither his feet nor his boots were made for kicking shit around, really.
The fox went back to its game, scampering out from behind his legs and picking a couple of foes, including the double-mouthed calabash from before. Rory grimaced a little and swept the pike in a low arc, clearing the ground just ahead of him to take a couple of seconds to watch the animal again.
To move with such freedom and grace...
But best not go there. A small yellow-and-green striped ball of fury and seeds and a fleshy mouth smashed painfully into his shin. "Ow!" he yelped, driving the pike through it in retaliation.
As far as weird things in Caido went, these ones were relatively harmless and easy to dispose of—physically. It was harder to clear the image of them burned into his mind, the rare but stressful dreams of giant pumpkins tearing through the forest with their sharp, gnashing teeth hunting for only one thing: manflesh. Or horseflesh. It was honestly worse to see a pumpkin thrice the size of his house mangling his horses than it was to die underneath a carpet of fist-sized gourds, but if Rory had to choose, he'd rather not have nightmares at all.
Pity he couldn't choose. And lucky they weren't thrice the size of his house or particularly efficient horse-killers. Bracing his body and particularly his right ankle, Rory gave one of the squash a well-aimed kick, wincing as the vegetable went flying. They might be small, but they were compact, and he knew he'd end up bruised if he kicked too many. Neither his feet nor his boots were made for kicking shit around, really.
The fox went back to its game, scampering out from behind his legs and picking a couple of foes, including the double-mouthed calabash from before. Rory grimaced a little and swept the pike in a low arc, clearing the ground just ahead of him to take a couple of seconds to watch the animal again.
To move with such freedom and grace...
But best not go there. A small yellow-and-green striped ball of fury and seeds and a fleshy mouth smashed painfully into his shin. "Ow!" he yelped, driving the pike through it in retaliation.
