Silver Moraine I'll learn the names of all the termites that eat my wooden teeth.

The taste that bloomed in the back of his throat was simultaneously bitter and sour, and even after the bug was dislodged he thought there was a twitching leg or something caught in his teeth; there wasn't, but the skin in his mouth was crawling with ick.

The stranger's lisping voice was a little hard to track at first. Willow focused as best he could, trying to drag his tongue across the roof of his mouth to dislodge the flavor that lingered there, scraping it against his teeth a moment after — and was more than happy to escape the clouds of bugs.

The dark girl's invitation was welcomed. He gave a last wheezing cough and spat in to one of the pools, sauntering after her.