Heron Lake Plateau you're an ancient ruin, a symbol of hubris and decay

Awright, Mag wasn't about to ignore the bulbous, fat, lovely frogs which sat piled before the two of them.

She hurried to divide up the remains: the one missing a leg paired up with the smaller frog, while the third - the fattest - set apart. She took the smallest of the frogs and eagerly crunched through the leg bones.

Her teeth sliced through the body and within a few minutes, the frog was no more. She slurped the last of it to the back of her throat for a forceful swallow, then looked to Veran.

Take the plump one! Ya earned that. Cue a small fishy burp, and a toothy grin. Whether he ate now or not, Mag would go on to direct his attention to the pile of horsetail.

Ya seen this stuff a'fore? Everywhere in bogs. Everywhere! She plucked one from the pile and set it before him like a stick, then licked her lips. Chewin' on 'em is helpful for passin' things - like uhh, kidney stones, or fer old people what needs the help to piss. But! Too much makes for the worst shits.

Not the best dinner conversation, but, a lesson was a lesson.

he cherished it.

all of it. even the way she burped in that fishy-smelling manner. mainly because he felt some...sense of pride? like he had contributed to the reason she smelt like that.

devouring a frog was a new experience, but he found he did not hate it. especially when she decided to teach him, as he worked along a leg of the frog where the meat felt especially nice.

he was disgusted and humored.

you know...you seem to know a lot of things that would upset a stomach. but his voice was kind in nature, subdued humor. or is that just the nature of it all?

it wouldn't be so hard to imagine that everything would hurt a stomach at some dosage point.

Yeah well, it comes in handy. There was no point in delving in to why she knew what she knew; that Tidefallen wasn't named for its beaches or coves, but the faltered spirit of its people. That sometimes as a girl, to keep the unsavory elements at bay, a girl might have to resort to something drastic.

Wise to remember, no matter the medicine, its always a danger. Ain't nobody know the strength of a thing, little or small, without good study of it. She sounded like -- ! Well, Mag wasn't sure. Someone wiser than herself.

Ya know, some frogs hurtcha too?

it was a good reminder. how he'd hold close to him in the coming weeks, months, maybe years. however long it took him to find his footing and confidence in this craft.

the frogs?

his brows knitted together, but he was clearly invested in learning about this.

His reaction brought a laugh from her which silenced the rest of the bog. Booming out of her, until it was nothing but watery eyes and a big smile upon her face. Aye! These ones're fine, I think, she nudged the remaining frog in front of her, the one missing a leg.

I've seen some, and tasted some - sent me spiralin' for hours! Methinks washing them before eatin' is a good practice. I heard talk back home -- here she paused, caught for a moment in a tenderness she did not expect, thinking of the place she'd abandoned and the people there.

It didn't last long. A breath, maybe.

Some critters have the bitter skin. Smaller they are, the stronger it is. Might be why nobody knows about it - I always go fer the biggest, fattest!

maybe a fade? <3

there were nice things in her laughter, in her tender moments.

his tail slapped against some drying mud. i'll remember that next time i'm frog hunting. a promise to do this again maybe.

or at least get better at it like he had said.