Moonspear Lets play nice

They gorged on the berry juice to the point where a pink milkshake would surely erupt from one end or the other soon enough. They were so full, Pie couldn’t even move. They sprawled right there beside the mess of squashed berries and sliced meat, their ratty tail resting in a puddle of what might be blood or juice—more likely, a blend of both.

Treepie let out a happy sigh, bleary eyes shifting around to idly search for the faces of Alaric, Sialuk and their siblings. They sort of wished to be closer to one or all of them but they simply couldn’t budge. Their eyelids began to flutter, then drift closed. Soon the little gourmand fell into a proper food coma, complete with tiny snores.