Heron Lake Plateau giblets

@Phoebe

An indeterminate amount of time has passed between his meeting with Owen and the gross garden, and now. Not sure how long, but just go with it okay? Good, cool. Now that we're on the same page — remember all that dirt and grime and poop and nastiness that's gotten all up in Tywyll's business? That hasn't gone away. He napped for a while with Owen in a totally consensual and not wink-wonky kind of way (and it was nice), but he didn't sleep for long. The hunger pains of his seven-day ordeal outside of the territory stopped him from getting a deep sleep. So he got up, stepped back from the slumbering Owen, and tawdled away, hunting for something to nibble or slurp, or maybe somewhere to bathe.

He had a little more energy after that power nap and that helped, but Tywyll was still feeling down in the dumps — and he still smelled like a dumpster fire. By the time he found the central lake he was ready for another nap, but he plopped himself down in the shallows with the intent to have a bath, and began to roll around, splashing and frothing the water. He got a little cleaner, but the pond was very, very cold, and layered with its own half-frozen pond scum. Tywyll might've cleaned off a lot of the goose garbage, but he had gathered a new aux de frog to replace it. Lets just face it — the boy was hopeless.