The Wolves In Dionaea

When Gifblaar hands you their assignment and calls in that favor you're less than pleased. *Fucking Gifblaar*. THE WOLVES IN DIONAEA An overly complicated vehicle for delivering Downtrodden lore. AKA Text Adventure. By Kanesha C Bryant. You name is Larkspur, you are a rabbit. You work for the Historical Recovery Society. A society for yanno. Lost history. Its members find info not readily available through necromancy or writing, and you in particular specialize in the ways rabbits have evolved to face the island's deadly wildlife. The area named the Dionaea has been a mystery for years due to the fact that despite loads of ancient abandoned warrens around skulls are extremely rare, graveslabs are almost non-existent, and its famous for wolf sightings. Speaking of wolves, a famous theory about the area is that it has something to do with a time where wolves might have been domesticated. Very little has been found on the subject until recently though, when that strange rabbit in the wolf mask chucked one of the professors into the official society headquarters compost pile and told him she would "use his guts as party streamers when they celebrate the reclaiming of our true forms". You found this amusing at the time because that professor was Gifblaar and *fuck Gifblaar* even when they're not passing their workload off to you. From what you learned afterward she was a part of a cult that believed rabbits were once wolves who were cursed to live as prey or something like that. The interesting part was that she brought proof. Amazing proof. Journals and books that seem to be from the correct time period. She said her people found them in the abandoned tunnels in a town to the south of the Dionaea and now they've all vanished except for her. She demanded the society look into it. And well. Its an amazing find if its true. You were excited to apply for the research team that would be sent if the recon mission found anything. That was your plan for the future. But instead of getting to go back home early for the holidays, you’re now working the recon. You should have never taken those days off to go see your cousin's new kits. You don't even like your cousin. You plan to make this trip really short. you've already lined up all the contacts and you plan to fly in to cut travel time. You gotta miss that holiday traffic. Plus your mom's birthday is coming up and your dad is probably baking something ridiculous. If you miss out on your dad's baking this year because of work again you're going to choke someone. Its time for a work sponsored adventure. [[Head To The Tripleroot Inn]]

You are tired and hungry when you reach the Tripleroot Inn. Traveling by Vulture was fast but surprisingly stressful, even with a steady flier like Owl-Taunting. Its gripping the harness that does it. every instinct that rabbits ever evolved were always a hard no on the subject of being picked up by birds and flown high into the air. You head straight for the bar/dining hall and by the time you catch the attention of the barkeep for your order, all you can do is point at the menu and make vaguely polite distress sounds. You inhale your food as soon as its put in front of you and when you finally push your dish aside you whip out your notebook and think about your next move. Your contact’s family owns this place and they know you’re coming. You should probably find the owner. It takes you way too long to notice the person calling your name. The other patrons are gone. You fell asleep you doofus. Her: excuse me. You put on a false alertness honed by years of society staff meetings. You’re 85% sure there is no drool on your face. So far, so good. Her: sorry I couldn’t introduce myself earlier, we’ve been having a lot of people deciding to leave for the winter and this is one of the last inns before the main road. I’m Calabar Bean, co-owner of the Tripleroot. I think you’re here for my aunt Ordeal? You are Larkspur correct? You: yes, I’m part of the Historical Recovery Society, Predators and Societal Formation branch. We heard that your aunt might have seen something related to the recent upswing of wolf sightings and deaths in the area? Is she here? Calabar: well she definitely saw something. It was…quite an event. She’s here but she did come out of it a little worse for wear. You nod sympathetically. You: that can happen with wolf attacks. The sheer residual anxiety afterwards can- Calabar: she’s dead. You:…oh! I’m so- Calabar: you can still talk to her. She hasn’t figured it out yet. You: sorry? Calabar motions to the corner of the bar. Before you got your food you remember seeing her deliver a glass of wine to an empty table. An older rabbit sits there now going through the motions of sipping from the glass and yup…that is…her head isn’t really connected to her body in the traditional sense huh? Also the slight translucence. Surefire sign of ghostiness right there. Calabar: it happened a few days ago, a right after we got news you were coming. We couldn’t bear to call a priest on her. The place isn’t the same without auntie. (she pats your hand and smiles) Just don’t mention it when you talk to her. The news might distress her. A tilt of the shoulders makes ‘auntie’s’ head shift off its base a bit. She pokes herself in the cheek to nudge it back into place and takes another non-sip of wine. You contemplate your benefits package. [[Compare Notes With Ghost Aunt]]

Ordeal Bean: look a’ this one! Didn’t know tha histories sent out kits these days. She takes a non-sip of wine. Ordeal: Just messing with you. Come on, sit sit! Now. Exactly which a’ tha gory details you looking for sugar-cane? [[Ask About The Cult]] [[Ask About The Wolves]] [[Ask About The Victims]] [[Ask About Strange Occurances]]

Everything started gettin’ odd when those doofuses started preachin’ about rabbits being descended from wolves or WHATEVER. They said they had these documents that proved it, that shed new light on rabbit history. Found them in Dionaea. We still can’t even figure out how the damn things reproduce. Considerin’ how good us rabbits are at that particular skill, I doubt something we came from that don’t have social boundaries involving wearing pants would be a lot more obvious about it. Maybe I’m just bitter though, those little snake turds were in here getting piss drunk and howling at the moon every. Single. Night. During their little excavation. I’ve never wished more than aggressive diarrhea on another soul but gods. The noise. They never let me in on exactly what they found. I guess a predatory researcher wasn’t as relevant to their cause as a historian. Pluuus I might have been a little off putting in our ‘interactions. Mainly by throwing them out of my family’s bar. But anyways, obviously whatever they had held enough weight to get YOU here though and you gotta get a clue where you can. Don’t want to repeat a shitty piece of history because we lost the manual. [[Ask About The Wolves]] [[Ask About The Victims]] [[Ask About Strange Occurances]] [[ That's all, thanks]]

Ordeal: the wolves have been stirred up for weeks now. More attacks, more deaths. They’re jittery, and I feel like I’ve seen more in this one area recently than in my entire life. And I’ve lived a long damn life. What’s even stranger? They don’t seem to be traveling in usual pack formation. Seen a few of them just wandering around alone. Seen a few RUN from other wolves! Weird. [[Ask About The Cult]] [[Ask About The Victims]] [[Ask About Strange Occurances]] [[ That's all, thanks]]

Their kills are different than normal. Messier. Whole bodies go missing and trails of offal are left behind. Sometimes the tooth marks in the kills don’t seem big enough. I know no one’s ever seen a juvenile wolf but these bites were just too small to belong to an adult. They’re not leaving the heads either. You know how wolves like to kill don’t you? Quick snip through the neck, leave the head, chow down on the body. Its how we’ve learned the most about wolf attacks. Makes it easy for necromancers to ask victims what went down. A lot of these newer kills leave the whole body mangled. You’re lucky if you find a PIECE of skull. Definitely wolf tooth marks though. Never seen anything like it. The rate of the killing is off too. This town has pretty low rate of wolf attacks considering how close we are to the center of the island. There’s enough large game around here to keep them occupied. People are dying left and right these days though. Worst thing though? We’ve found children. You know they never go after kits, but we’ve found 6 bodies already. I pray we don’t find any more. [[Ask About The Cult]] [[Ask About The Wolves]] [[Ask About Strange Occurances]] [[ That's all, thanks]]

There was the pacing. Saw one wolf pace just on the edge of the forest for days. I woke up one morning and found it dead. Checked the body and it looked like it had died sometime the night before. Its middle was twisted, like you would pick up a rag and wring the water out of it. It was filthy too. I checked the path it had been walking and found drag marks. Like something had dragged it back and forth all night and dropped it when the sun came up. There’s also the…carcasses? I’ve seen two. They were pretty big but I got no idea what they could belong to. They looked boneless. Kinda reminded me of the twisted up wolf. She shudders. Anyway, there were always too many wolves around for me to get a proper look at ‘em. Can’t say I was too upset about that though. [[Ask About The Cult]] [[Ask About The Wolves]] [[Ask About The Victims]] [[ That's all, thanks]]

You think you have all the information you need. [[Head to bed]] [[Compliment Her Radical Scars]]

You’ve had enough ghosts and gore for one day. You say your thanks and make your way to the sleeping quarters, collecting the key to your room from the front desk along the way. As you approach the hall to you room you see a priest paceing back and forth unsteadity. [[Talk To Priest]] [[Keep Walking]]

You compliment her scars. She poses and flutters her eyelashes. A move that slides her head just a little more off center. Ordeal: Thank you for noticing darling! Can you believe I picked up most 2 for 1? She chuckles. Ordeal: That’s tha life of a Predatory Researcher. Of course, it was my stunnin’ new necklace that did tha deed. It may have been quick, but gods, don’t let anyone lie to you about how much it hurts. You glance over to Calabar. She leans in close and playfully punches you in the shoulder. The muscles where her hand touches tense, and you feel just a tiny bit colder. Ordeal: Don’t play dumb sugarcane. You know how wolves kill. Natural guillotines. Let it be known that punching a wolf in the snoot is a less than good way to get it to back off. To be fair though, it worked every time right up until it didn’t! Shame on me to getting so close while they’re so jittery. Her expression turns a little more serious. Ordeal: Do me a favor though; don’t bring it up with Calabar. I don’t think she’s really accepted it yet. Do you have any idea how much wine she’s wasted on me? Criminal. Can’t say tha memory of the taste isn’t almost as good when you’re made of…whatever…I’m made of. But still. You: so is this…? Ordeal: preferable? I dunno. I dunno what’s beyond the door to the rest. She fiddles with the wine glass. Ordeal: I like it here though. You should try to stay on this side as long as possible. Hopefully in a more corporeal form. The company’s good here. She smiles, pushing the glass towards you as she gets up from the table. Ordeal: Cala! I’m off to the powder room! See our guest on the least lethal path to the sleeping quarters! Ordeal saunters off towards the doors to the back room. The metal on the handle frosts a little as she goes through. Calabar comes over to clear the table and you can’t resist asking what a ghost would even need to do in the powder room. She shrugs and downs the entire glass of wine in one shot. You think its time for bed. [[Head to bed]]

You get ready for bed as best you can in the tiny capsule room and snack on a few of the mints in the complimentary toiletry bag. What to do next? [[Read A Few Of The Journals]] [[Consider Your Situation]]

You were just paid to hang out with a ghost and hear about horrible mysterious gore. You are not being paid to hang out with this guy. You kind of feel like an asshole, but today has already been too weird. You rush past and get to your room as quickly as possible. You think you feel him staring at you when you duck inside, but it could just be your imagination. You’re still very tired after all. [[Settle down for the night]]

You'd only skimmed the pages of carefully copied journal entries. The 'real' things were back at the society. As a person whose interest in how preadator migration and behavior shaped rabbit society has been intense and constant from an eary age, these documents more that pique your curiosity.The Dionaea area has been a historical black hole for as long as anyone on the island could remember. Very few intact skull for necromancy, many warrens nothing but burned out husks, little to no written records surviving. Historians basically had to go on architecture and guess work. This connection with wolves might be something though. It does have one of the highest wolf populations on the island. You pick up the first section of documents and begin to read. Private accounts of Delphinium Ghils-Foh. Illustrator and record keep to our (the rest is scratched out) Delphinium Eve 52/90 I watched him arrive through my studio windows with the spoils from the 1st warren. A wolf. The only one not killed in the raid. The first of our new guardians. Out of all the weapons we have acquired, warren rumors say it is this wolf that scares our young king the most. He arrived at my studio after the conquest celebrations to get his illustrated records made. I was surprised when the only guard accompanying him left him alone at my door. I thought he would be older and less cooperative judging by the Account Of Events but he can’t be more than twelve. As I got to work posing him for his portrait I found him as docile as any other wolf. A little small though. Well fed, but sort of fragile. He didn’t flinch when I accidentally brushed the still hot brand on his back though and he didn’t speak unless spoken to. Obviously he had been impeccably trained. A lucky acquisition to be sure. If he were forced to begin the expansion with the chaining of a wolf it would have cast a shadow over our young king’s new rule for sure. I admit that I should have noticed the shaking sooner. He hadn’t been fed since, presumably, before the raid on his warren. Probably an oversight by his handlers. Imbeciles. It didn’t cross my mind until the bowl of raw flesh was pushed into my arms by the cook I had summoned that there might have been a reason they had been squeamish about offering him his dinner. I watched him silently settle by my tea fire and pick over the cold meat for a while before I took the bowl and sacrificed my kettle as a makeshift stew pot. His voice was measured and steady as he thanked me. His eyes were wet with tears. He devoured his meal and fell asleep almost immediately on a nearby cushion. I let him stay. I trust my king, but I worry about how this child will fare in the expansion. He doesn’t seem built for it. I’ll watch over him a little. Note to self: request a new kettle. Tea tastes like blood. Delphinium Eve 77/90 Dionaea’s first kill during a Turn. The first fox attack I’ve ever lived through where no one was lost. He’s come far. Recording was hard today. If he could only have been allowed to wash the blood from his face I could have stopped myself from gagging. When the king left us he apologized until I successfully assured him that my weak stomach wasn’t his fault. I wish I had his fortitude. Perhaps it comes with being a wolf. Note to self: pick up some of those rose pastries he likes, he mentioned a birthday soon. And more blue inks for illustrating the book for the first litter’s birthday next week. Delphinium Eve 80/90 he asked if he could help out in the studio and maybe sort the illustrated records occasionally. At least until he is called upon for Service. I said yes, giving him an excuse to sleep here until the night terrors stop. Delphinium Eve 1/96 He crushed them all and burned them to ash. An entire warren’s history gone in a day. I could feel my ears pop as so many doors to The Rest were shut at once. That coward had the nerve announce this as a new era of history. A record ‘untainted by the lies of the dead’. Curse the god who fated that child become his executioner. Curse us all who did not stop it. Delphinium Nigh 6/88 the last warren in the valley fell today. The king wanted a grand portrait of Dionaea surrounded by the shattered skulls of their soldiers. Not so many fight now that there is such a cost. Dionaea sat perfectly still as the king watched me work, only moving to blink the flies out of his eyes. I asked him how he felt later that evening as I cleaned up the sketch in my studio. I didn’t have the nerve to ask about the king's growing urgency for battle, about the herd of wolves bearing our warren’s name wiping out entire bloodlines. His face was as composed as usual but his eyes pierced my very core. After a while he just muttered “Tired.” He didn’t speak for the rest of the night. This is...amazing. And terrifying. Wolves kept in warrens like pets? Used for warfare? Talking to rabbits? You've heard fairytales like this but if this is true it would change the history of predation as we know it. You suddenly feel a little more determined about getting the most information you can out of this recon trip. [[Consider Your Situation]] [[Go To Sleep]]

This trip is definetely more interesting than you thought it would be. A part of you wishes You had more than three days. You have to stick to the plan though, Mending is starting up soon and the holiday hustle and bustle might kill you if you don't get everything at the society in order by then. Fucking Gifblarr. [[Read A Few Of The Journals]] [[Go To Sleep]]

You dream of a body being dragged into the trees. The head lies still on the ground with eyes barely open. The body elongates, pulled like taffy. The scraping sound it makes is so soft. The head whispers something to you with growing intensity but you can’t make it out. A hand suddenly wraps itself around the back of your neck. Its fingertips feel like clusters of teeth. [[Wake Up]]

Wow that sucked! [[Yeah It Did!]]

Well, you're up now. Might as well get ready and find your next contact. There's a lot of walking between here and there. [[Start Your Day]]

As you leave the inn you immediately walk into a cloud of smoke. You hear a voice apologizing over your coughing. Mage: Yo are you okay? Sorry just…don’t breath in this direction for a sec okay? And ignore the purple, it’ll go away on its own. I shouldn’t have done this right outside the freaking door… When your burning eyes clear, a mage with a ridiculous pipe stands before you. They don’t really seem to know what to do about this situation. [[Interact With Vape Mage]]

You suddenly feel strangely refreshed despite your horrible night’s sleep and your fingertips, upon further inspection are now purple. You hypothesize to the mage that you might be slightly high. Mage: well I mean. You’re not NOT a little high. But its just a wake aid. You: what in the world is that? Mage: it’s like a sleep aid, but for being awake? It’s weird to explain. It’s mostly for the after effects of night terrors, insomnia issues, and general terrifying portentous dreams that subtly mirror current events? If you’ve had any of those recently you’re probably feeling it. It should temporarily trick your body into thinking you had a long restful night of sleep. You: That is…alright cool, I just walked into a coffee drug cloud. Who are you? Broom: Yeah, sorry about that again. Seriously. And the name’s Broom. Part time mage, full time traveling apothecary. They take a long drag from their pipe and pointedly breathes the smoke away from your face this time. Broom: Now, what’s after you friend? You look exhausted. (they tap the historical recovery insignia on your cloak) I assume its related to official nerd business? You: You’re not wrong about the nerd business. I’m on a recon trip. I'm just tired because of the nightmare I had last night. It was…intense. Broom: nightmare huh? Yeah, you get those around here. Probably something to do with all the wolf attacks. Lots of anxiety floating around. Plus you’re what? Necromancer? You're kind of surprised they noticed, your pupils are barely warped. You stopped dabbling in that years ago. Born with the talent but didn't have the people skills for it. You: Not practicing, but yeah. Broom: yeeeeeah. You’re probably feeling a good amount of backlash from whatever‘s making the wolves flip out. You not being from here doesn’t help. There’s a reason so few people still live near the center of the island. My family moved out of here when I was around 12. I only come back to make sales once in a while. Speaking of which, I gotta get going if I wanna find a ride out of here. You need anything before I split? Directions? Drugs? I got both. [[Ask for Guidence]] [[Buy Drugs From A Stranger You Just Met In The Woods]]

You: I need to make it to my next contact as quickly as possible. I’m on a tight schedule with my ride out and I’m also not really down with wandering around wolf-infested woods alone. I can pay you and get you a free ride out of here with me if you get me where I need to go. Broom: hmmm. Sounds good as long as we’re out of here in the next few days. I gotta get on the road. Stressful holiday travel makes for solid sales. You: …Do you just wander around in the woods asking people if they wanna buy drugs? Broom: …that is the sketchiest possible way to put it, but yes. You: …ok. [[Head To The Next Location]]

Seriously? [[Okay, You Do You I Guess]] [[You're Working So Maybe Not-> Walk Alone]] [[You'd Actually Rather Have Navigation Help->Ask for Guidence]]

You: Do you actually have anything to just…get rid of the dreams? Broom: I’ve got a little Blink left. Gives you sleep so dreamless you’ll think you just closed your eyes. Its heavy stuff though. Sure you don’t just want to ride it out? You remember the feeling of the fingertip teeth on your throat. You are already opening your pack. You: What do you want for the whole bottle? Broom starts to pick through a bag that is obviously more organized than yours. Broom: Well I-Huh. Sorry friend. I think I sold the last of it last night. this weird priest guy's been trading for all kinds of sleep aids every time he sees me. Must be insomnia, dude always looks like he can barely stand. uh...huh. okay. [[Ask for Guidence]] [[ Walk Alone]]

Broom writes down some directions for you and points you at what is hopefully the right way. As you walk, you get that same feeling from last night. The feeling of being watched. By the time you see the entryway to the inn you are running. You stop to catch your breath before going inside. Your heart is pounding. When did you start running? For how long? What from? [[Enter The Sleeping Beet-> Get To Work]]

You walk to the next inn with something resembling optimism. You’re still pretty tired, but having broom chattering beside you combined with the last effects of your friend the coffee drug cloud is calming your nerves. You only feel anxious once Broom starts to smell like electricity. The smell of readying magic. They put their hand on your arm, gently guiding you off the path and into the cover of the brush. You notice that the only sound for the last few minutes has been two sets of footsteps steadily gaining urgency. Not quite running but getting away from...something. Quickly. When you see the inn Broom starts up the previous conversation right where you left off but doesn’t let go of your arm until you’re both inside. [[Enter The Sleeping Beet-> You're Glad You Brought A Distraction]]

You decide to get right to work before exhaustion catches up with you and you collapse in on yourself like a dying star. The innkeeper, Spindle, is nice if not a little weird. The land was recently left to him by a distant relative and he had renovated the stable tunnels and rooms into an inn. As an island historian You couldn’t help but note that taking over abandoned, predator prone, magically disturbed, and (judging by Madam Ordeal) almost definitely haunted land near a historical black hole from a distant relative sounded like the opening statement on a really interesting death certificate. He seems to be doing fine though. You have matching bags under your eyes, but You think his have more to do with the 6, 4 year old kits you see chasing each other in and out of the vacant rooms as you stow your pack away. You almost get pulled into their adorable whirlwind of destruction until they notice Broom. Next to a mage, you're hot garbage. It almost makes you wish you'd studied necromancy harder. At least until Broom's explanations of practical magic theory bores them and they begin banging their tiny fists on the front desk and demanding it be magically lit on fire. Their mother, at least the lady folding towels while keeping a laser-like watchful eye on everything happening around her that you assume is their mother, doesn't seem to mind this. You follow Mr. Spindle away from the scene. when they started rebuilding the inn, his family found some books while cleaning and sealing a few collapsed tunnels. They didn't think anything of them until the weird cultists showed up in town and they didn't really believe the rumors, but they felt what they had would be safer with the historical society then those hooligans. Luckily, he hasn't seen any of them for weeks now. He shows you to a stack of books in a carefully kept makeshift library, and for the second time you're sorry that You’ll be leaving so soon. You’ll have to send some students down here to makes copies of everything as soon as winter is over. You get out your notebook and start taking down descriptions. [[Book Notes]]

You decide to get right to work before exhaustion catches up with you and you collapse in on yourself like a dying star. The innkeeper, Spindle, is nice if not a little weird. The land was recently left to him by a distant relative and he had renovated the stable tunnels and rooms into an inn. As an island historian You couldn’t help but note that taking over abandoned, predator prone, magically disturbed, and (judging by Madam Ordeal) almost definitely haunted land near a historical black hole from a distant relative sounded like the opening statement on a really interesting death certificate. He seems to be doing fine though. You have matching bags under your eyes, but You think his have more to do with the 6, 4 year old kits you see chasing each other in and out of the vacant rooms as you stow your pack away. You follow Mr. Spindle away from the scene to a carefully kept makeshift library Where he shows you the stack of books. when they started rebuilding the inn, his family found some books while cleaning and sealing a few collapsed tunnels. They didn't think anything of them until the weird cultists showed up in town. They didn't really believe the rumors, but they felt what they had would be safer with the historical society then those hooligans. Luckily, he hasn't seen any of them for weeks now. He leaves you to your work but the combination of your strange walk over and the constant interruption of the kits finding any excuse to come in and bother you despite their parent's scolding make any real note taking impossible. Plus you're still pretty tired. You pop a left over courtesy mint into your mouth, hoping the sugar will go a little ways towards keeping you awake. It doesn't work. [[Another Nightmare]]

All the books you're given to sift through are written in original Lango. They're also in surprisingly good condition for something hanging out in abandoned tunnels for ages. Spindle has been so kind as to use tiny strips of paper as bookmarks for wolf-related passages. Notes: Book 1 seems to be about etiquette between different classes. The passage marked talks about wolves as if they're part of the noble caste but also refers to them as servants. There are passages about how fine a wolf's clothes must be, how well groomed they are, what symbols and jewelry they're allowed to wear. "The wolf speaks only for the pleasure of others. The voice should only be used to lighten the hearts of the warren or to snarl in the face of the predator." "The wolf is not a predator. Its food, its clothing, its life. People who know the right way of things provide these. A wolf who provides for itself is no better than an animal and such it will be treated." hmmm.Thats...Okay. Book 2 is a book of ceremonies. There are two passages marked. One talks about kits leaving the nest for the first time and being fed some confection made with milk and blood. Its not clear if this is how they found wolves or made them. The second passage talks about illustrating wolves with their first fully 'turned' kill. The provided art is beautiful. beautiful and super gross. Book 3 is a book of recipes. Or religious text? It was hard to tell back in the day. There's a whole section for the preparation of meat and the place of wolves in the kitchen. "Wolves may help if need is there and work is simple but remember to keep things Good and Right. Wolves may gather and cut ingredients but they can never combine them in even the basest way. You should not want an Animal in your kitchen" These books remind you so much of the setting in the journal notes that you go back to your room and retrieve them for comparison. This wolf character, Dionaea, seemed to have been trained to obey his captors. The first passage even called him docile. Nothing you've seen indicates wolves were used against other warrens, but there may be clues in the next section of journals. You are getting a little hungry though. [[Take A Break]] [[Read The Next Section Of Journals]]

Lunch is delicious. And loud. Broom revealed your necromantic heritage in a bid to save themselves. The few other guest and the elderly house beetle seem relived that the kits have chosen new a targets. The extra helping of desert you both receive from the grateful innkeepers give you the energy you need to make you way back to the library. You go back to your studies but last night’s bad sleep is catching up to you. You have just enough awareness to move a nearby book out of the possible drool zone before you’re resting your head on your arms. [[You Can't Keep Your Eyes Open->You Dream Again]]

You dream about a wolf. Its scratching furiously at a lump in its throat. Its anguished whines pierce the silent woods around you until a creature drops from the wound and the wolf collapses. It makes a wet thud when it hits the ground. Its a rabbit. The rabbit stands up and starts scratching a lump in their throat. You see the snout start to poke through the flesh. [[You Feel An Itch In Your Throat-> Wake Up]]

Another bad one. [[Yeah It W-Wait. What's That Noise?->The Priest Is Here]]

The priest is standing over you. You almost have a heart attack. Priest: Oh my my my. are you alright my child? You: Fine just..surprised. you actually feel as if every drop of urine in your body just teleported into the future from sheer terror. You do not reveal this. Priest: Ha ha ha, forgive me. I just came to apologize. You: For? Priest: My unseemly etiquette of course! I remember you greeting me at the inn last night. Sadly I was feeling unwell and my actions might have been off-putting. I must apologize for my rudeness. You: Oh. No problem, I wasn't in a great mood either. Job related stress. Are you having the nightmares too? The priest smiles. Priest: My my my, can't say that I have. I have ways of achieving pleasant dreams these days. You: Like a sleep aid? Priest: Oh No no no my dear child. There is much to do, what with the...distress. A hard day's work is enough to make me sleep like the dead. You notice he hasn't stopped looming over you this entire time. Priest: It seems your dreams aren't as untroubled as mine are hmm? You’re not from the area are you? That must make your work difficult. You: I get by, I'm used to the HRS schedule running me ragged. Priest: Ah, I see I see I see! A historian are you? Difficult deadlines can stretch one a little thin. Some help might be welcome yes? Perhaps I can offer my services. [[What Services?]] [[No Thank You]]

You: What services? the priest smiles wider. Priest: Well, mostly guidance and information. Yes yes yes, I know my way around this area quite well. I've also observed the comings and goings of those masked individuals. I assume you're here about their claims? I've actually seen one of the record rooms they discovered. Amazing stuff. Nearby too. I could take you right now if you wish. I'd like someone who knows what they're doing to see it as soon as possible. They've already done quite a bit of damage to the place. [[You're Interested]] [[No Thank You]] [[Bring Broom]]

You decline politely and thank him for the offer. You already have a guide and you have to stay on task. Without proof of the validity of the documents, the society wouldn't hold an actual investigation (plus you find him super creepy). He smiles and nods, finally backing off. Priest: An admirable work ethic and a solid trust in the skills of your companion! Hm hm hm very good. I'll leave you to it then. You decide that maybe its time to head back to your room. You have enough notes and the library feels a lot less welcoming now. You meet Broom, freed by the kit's bedtime, sitting in the hall between your room doors and fiddling with a map. [[Read More Journals]] [[Try To Sleep]]

You greet him as you pass and his eyes follow but don’t quite focus on you as he mumbles something unintelligible under his breath. When you get to your room you glance back, only to see him standing as still as his shaky legs allow and staring right at you. You make sure the door to your room is locked real good. You kind of feel like an asshole, but today has already been too weird. [[Settle down for the night]]

There's someone in the room with you [[Who's There?->The Priest]]

The priest is standing in the doorway. You manage to keep yourself from making an embarrassing fear squeak just in time. Nice. Priest: Oh my my my. are you alright my child? You: I'm fine just..surprised. You realize you fell asleep with the mint in your mouth and it has relocated itself to the back of your hand, where it is quite stuck. Gross. You hope he doesn't notice. Priest: Ha ha ha, forgive me. I just came to apologize. You: For? Priest: My unseemly etiquette of course! I remember you greeting me at the inn last night. Sadly I was feeling unwell and my actions might have been off-putting. I must apologize for my rudeness. You: Oh. No problem, I wasn't in a great mood either. Job related stress. Are you having the nightmares too? the priest smiles. Priest: My my my, can't say that I have. I have ways of achieving pleasant dreams these days. You: Like a sleep aid? Priest: Oh No no no my dear child. There is much to do these days, what with the...distress. A hard day's work is enough to make me sleep like the dead. It seems your dreams aren't as untroubled as mine are though hmm? You’re not from the area are you? That must make your work difficult. You: I get by. I don't have much time anyway. There's a lot more going on here than I thought. Priest: Ah, I see I see I see. Difficult deadlines can stretch one a little thin. Some help might be welcome yes? Perhaps I can offer my services. You: What services? the priest smiles wider. Priest: Well, mostly guidance and information. Yes yes yes, I know my way around this area quite well. I've also observed the comings and goings of those masked individuals. I assume you're here about their claims? I've actually seen one of the record rooms they discovered. Amazing stuff. Nearby too. I could take you right now if you wish. I'd like someone who knows what they're doing to see it as soon as possible. They've already done quite a bit of damage to the place. [[You're Interested]] [[You Must Stay On Task]]

You might as well take him up on his offer. You *do* feel a professional need to protect any items or documents from further damage if necessary. You grab your cloak and a lantern and follow the priest out of the inn. The priest chatters as you walk but his voice doesn't have the strange but soothing qualities of people like Madame Ordeal or Broom. If anything it makes you more anxious. You're secretly grateful when you arrive at the site and you can use work as an excuse not to listen to him anymore. You walk down into a tunnel of the abandoned warren and spot a hallway that had once been ravaged by fire. Ancient soot still stains the walls and you can see several pairs of new footprints leading into different rooms. Some doorways have x's or numbers beside them. [[Search Rooms]]

You decline politely and thank him for the offer. You have to stay on task. Without proof of the validity of the documents, the society wouldn't hold an actual investigation. He smiles and nods. Priest: An admirable work ethic! I'll leave you to it then. When you get back to your room its all gone. The door has been pried open by force. Your pack, all those journals, the notes from the talk with Madame Ordeal. Gone. You run to the front desk to report your stolen items and a description of your pack reveals that the priest walked out with it around 20 minutes ago. You don't even grab your cloak, before you're out the door in flash. It only takes a moment of frantically scanning the forest in the quickly fading evening light before you spot the papers. You follow them pretty far before common sense returns and you decide to turn back. The darkness makes it difficult to navigate but luckily you meet a local midwife on her way home who offers to lead you back to the inn. She even lends you her cloak, mistaking your shaking from anxiety for feeling the autumn chill. You think about your next step as you walk. You hear her skull hit the tree with a sickening *smack* before you realize what's happening. The creature's torso twists into the darkness, long and pale as a length of intestine. Thin strips of fur cling to its translucent skin. The midwife's blood drips from the yellowing teeth lining the fingers clasped around her neck as the rabbit head angles up to look at you. The Priest smiles. [[Run]]

You walk into the first room and find nothing. It looks to be an old sitting room. The fire left only marks where tables and cushions had been. The second room is just as bare. There are signs that somthing heavy was dragged out the door but it mostly just has a weird smell. The third room is- Oh. You see the pile of bones. [[You Feel The Teeth->They Never Find You]]

You run. You know you can't outrun it. You feel steadily gaining ground. Your lungs burn. The midwife's blood clumps in your fur. You can hear it behind you. Its going to catch you. The Priest laughs. When they find you the next day you're alive, lying in the middle of the main road just outside of town. The midwife's cloak is gone. When you wake up a week later in the historical society's hospital you remember falling. You must have hit your head and blacked out. You don't know how you got to the road. You tell them everything you can remember. You tell them about the Priest. You're surprised but overjoyed when you learn the midwife, Ms. Bleeding Heart is alive and completely healed to boot. She corroborates your account of the attack and provides a much clearer description of the creature than you do. The grotesque monster you imagined has only a passing resemblance to the one they find crushed under the rocks in the ravine. He must have followed you over the edge in the dark and started a small rockslide. You're amazed he came out worse than you did. The biology department still can't stop talking about the body. An unbalanced fusion of wolf and rabbit characteristics, the first of its kind ever seen! Your colleagues think this must be a mid-form of the 'turning' the journals talk about. Its too bad that the body decomposed so quickly but they've found other specimens that they were able to at least partially preserve. This is mostly thanks to Bleeding Heart. Recently she's been working with the investigation team permanently stationed there and her expert knowledge of the area has led to many valuable finds. The society still hasn't found a way to stop the attacks and most civilians have abandoned the town, but there's no shortage of scientists and historians willing to venture into the unknown for such amazing discoveries. Everything turns out Just. Fine. The End.

Your mother still holds out hope, but everybody knows you're gone. The End.

Delphinium Mourn 83/120 Riots have begun. Drosera was lost in the big fire. They couldn’t even find her bones, poor thing. The panic attacks, being forced to fight out on the raids. It’s amazing she lasted this long. I tried consoling Cicuta after the funeral but she seemed…detached. “it’s not anything that he wouldn’t have done to her eventually.” She said. I can’t help but agree. Dionaea has not visited in a long while. Delphinium Mourn 92/120 The daily executions have started up again. I’m trying my hardest to record every one. The rest stopped recording these crimes long ago. I will keep at it until I am killed. Delphinium Dyy 2/99 The winter is hard and all resources are spent towards this war against the world. I don’t know whether my death will be by starvation or on the execution block first. Delphinium Eve 6/90 Both of Dionaea’s wives and more than two-hundred rebels are imprisoned. Conspiracy. Treason. Deception. Drosera lives and her warnings to the unconquered warrens have all but put a stop to the advance of the king’s warriors. Maybe she wouldn’t have been captured if she didn’t lead them all to the front door demanding a conference with the king in her trembling voice. Maybe her cousin would have escaped her fate if she hadn’t run to her side immediately and declared herself a traitor to this ruined warren. There will be no trial tomorrow. Tonight there is a feast to celebrate the ‘cleansing’ that is to come. Dionaea was never suspected. He refused to speak for them and I wish he had, I wish I had. The king turned to him during dinner and asked in a drunken slur strangely filled with concern, “do you hurt for them my Loyalest? It hurt me when I got rid of my first and third. When I got rid of the children. T-the tainted- “. Dionaea looked down at him with his usual gently impassive stare, “I have no love for those who wound the warren.” The king nodded unsteadily as he muttered what I assumed were sounds of approval. I know I am a coward, but I wonder why Dionaea suffers this. I’ve always felt he had no romantic affection for those girls but he did care for them. He at least protected them from the brunt of the king’s wrath. I tried to talk to him after dinner but he’s not answering his door. Maybe that is for the best. I shouldn’t expect or tell him to do what I cannot. He is not my kit. Delphinium Eve 7/90 I have never felt this way before. Is it fear or joy? It burns me from the inside out. Delphinium Mourn 7/90 The king was executed in the courtyard while he smiled to the crowd and called for blood. It was quick and came with no warning. Many didn’t believe what they saw when Dionaea dropped the cleanly removed head from his jaws. For long moments all that could be heard was the cracking and popping of turning and the soft padding of feet walking to the front of the execution block. Dionaea raised his voice, the first time I had heard him do so. “this is over.” He said “he is dead.” [[Try To Sleep]]

If you can just gets a little more sleep before tommorrow you'll be good. Just one more day before you can head home. [[Lights Out]]

A pair of arms sprout from the middle of a forest clearing. It twists the wolf in its hands like clay. It twists the rabbit in its hands like clay. The hands are chewing. [[A Twig Cracks Behind You->Get up]]

Well. Okay. You know what???? You'll take it. It at least gave you a few hours. Let's finish up this trip. You wake up Broom and search your pack for your tooth brush. The last thing you need to do before you head back is pick up a few books from a local warren. This wasn't an especially critical task but hey. The society needs those books back and they need to be hand delivered by approved personnel. You were going to ask Ordeal to do it for you before you knew she was dead, but now that feels kind of gauche. She's about as off the clock as she can be. When you step out of the Sleeping Beet that morning you're about as refreshed as you've been all trip. Even Broom comments on it between blowing puffs of coffee smoke and downing an actual canteen of coffee. You're both ready to face the day. [[Get Crackin']]

You might as well take him up on his offer. You *do* feel a professional need to protect any items or documents from further damage if necessary. You insist on asking Broom to come with though. You tell the priest they're you're research assistant. Broom goes along with the lie like a champ. You grab your cloak and a lanturn and follow the priest out of the inn. No one realy talks on the walk but the priest whose chattering and is making you anxious for some reason. Broom is fidgety and quiet. You notice the barest hint of that electric smell again. The priest just gets louder. You're secretly grateful when you arrive at the site and you can use work as an exscuse not to listen to him anymore. You and Broom walk down into a tunnel of the abandoned warren and spot a hallway that had once been ravaged by fire. Ancient soot still stains the walls and you can see several pairs of new footprints leading into different rooms. Some doorways have x's or numbers beside them. Broom pulls you into a dark corner as soon as you're far enough away from the door. Broom: (whispering) So. Friendo. You know this is a trap right? You: (whispering) You don't- Broom: (whispering) Because it is. This is the sketchiest thing I've ever been involved in and I walk around in the woods selling drugs. You: (whispering) Its my job to investigate stuff like this though. This trip is too important to just drop leads. Broom: (whispering) I know this, and I respect your dedication to whatever nerd-ass info you think the world needs. But we're both rabbits here and detecting the oncoming threat of murder is kind of built into us! Look, I've met this priest guy a couple of times since I've been back here doing deliveries and The first time I saw him actually inside a building was last night at the Tripleroot. You: (whispering) So!? Broom inhales and places two fingers to their temple. Broom: (whispering, but sassy now) The Tripleroot. Is. Haunted. By a ghost. He is a priest. Their entire thing is taking ghosts to The Rest. A thing he doesn't seem too concerned about doing. I don't think he's a priest. Also??? He's bought almost my entire supply of sleeping aids and that's fucking weird. I thought it was weird when it was happening but every day it weighs on my soul just how weird it is. You still have doubts on whether these facts point towards murder but you *are* willing to concede that this is unnecessarily creepy. You've got one more day, you can always come back in the daylight. You head back topside but to see the priest anywhere. Then you hear the growling. In the old warren courtyard, a wolf is losing to a nightmare. The creature's torso twists into the darkness, long and pale as a length of intestine. Thin strips of fur cling to its translucent skin. Its footsteps clack and scrape against the stone as it circles the wounded wolf on all fours. The head of the priest bobs back and forth on the twisted neck. His expression is cheerful. When he spots you both, his smile widens. [[Run. NOW.]]

You both make it pretty far before things fall apart. You *just* spot the twinkling of the Sleeping Beet's lights when the Priest appears in front of you. He is missing a large chunk of his throat. The ragged edges writhe like worms. He no longer appears jovial. You turn around and it takes you a second to realize you're running alone. When you turn to grab Broom the smell of lightning hits you in the face full force. The Priest reaches for them. Suddenly they're gone. You hear a pop. Two wet thuds. And a crack. The Priest's head falls to the ground. Broom's body skids to a halt on the dirt road. Magic is a very exact art. A teleportation spell used creatively can turn a rabbit into a living cannon ball if the rabbit doesn't mind going through any objects in the way to arrive at their destination. Done correctly, the rabbit takes no damage from this. Of course, things get difficult when you factor in things like monsters and darkness and trees. When Broom ricochets off the tree the branch went completely through them. When the doctors arrive they're still breathing. By the time you arrive at the nearest hospital its clear that they won't be for long. They ask for you after statements are taken and the Exit Secretary finishes writing down contacts and requests. They apologize. Their family moved from this town so long ago and they already had to endure pain meds they hadn't personally brewed and their chest hurts too much to laugh as hard as they want about how bad they fucked up. At least they could spend their last moments with a friend. You are friends right? Doesn't this kind of thing make people friends? The doctors let you roll the cot into the garden so they can have their pipe. You make it to your mom's birthday party. The real priest, a Mr. False Parsley, is found dead in the tunnels months later. His skull is smashed like many of the other victims so he can not be reached by necromancy for comment. The wolf research is ongoing but not much else is found. Severe doubt is cast on the books and documents having anything to do with actual wolves. If these Dionaean 'wolves' existed before, they're most likely extinct now. Your department is pretty sure all the strange attacks were due to The Priest and its kind. Shortly after research teams arrived they found a nest of the shape shifting creatures hidden on the edge of town, some who had obviously taken the forms of other local rabbits. Luckily, they were able to kill most of them. The popular hypothesis is that they found the documents after killing the previous owner and chose their forms to draw in those curious about the Dionaean 'wolves'. Since they've been driven out, all strange wolven activity has stopped and the town is mostly back to normal. The End.

Figuring out how to knock on the door was the hard part. You settle for dropping stones in until you see two ears and the head of an axe peek out from the wall along the bottom. You ask for her help and she throws a small box of mint leaves up at you, demanding you chew them to prove you're not a monster. Neither of you question this logic. Once she knows you're legit you're allowed to climb down and enter her small burrow. Her name is Bleeding Heart, she's a midwife, and she ran from the same monster you did tonight. She patches up your shoulder and asks Broom to crush some mint right outside the door and turn the lights off. She tells you both to sit and rest while she retreats to her back room to radio the inns and warrens in the area with warnings and orders to put mint on any door or tunnel leading inside. She has no idea why mint is what keeps the Priest away, but she knows it works. Again, neither of you question her logic. As you all sit and wait for the sun to rise you talk about the monster. She'd seen the Priest lurking around for a few days. She'd known the real priest, she knew he was dead, and she knew in her heart this thing had done it. Coming from botany and central island bloodlines, she knew that every terrible thing that could crawl from the shadows had one plant they just didn't like. Nightmare creatures were babies that way. She observed its behavior until she figured out the mint thing a few hours ago. She'd been carrying some with her tonight but she ended up giving it to a family heading out. Obviously her cloak didn't absorb the smell like she hoped it would. She seems upset when you describe what was likely the death of the strange wolf. When you console her she tells you not to worry. Tonight has just been very stressful and she lost her brother very recently so she's feeling emotional. You don't press. This town's been through a lot. You fall into a thankfully dreamless sleep. When you give your report you get a real nice holiday bonus. Gifblaar is kind of upset about it which is great because fuck Gifblaar. You make it to your mom's birthday party too. The cake was great. Broom stopped by and now your parents won't stop trying to lure them into a job as a warren apothecary. You think they just want a rabbit on the inside so they never have to wait in line for your dad's prescriptions again. No one's been able to figure out what The Priest really is but stranger things have crawled out of the center of the island and the mint has drastically cut the rate of attacks. Ms. Bleeding Heart is sadly one of the last victims. Shortly after research teams arrived you hear they find a nest of the shape shifting creatures hidden in a giant cavern that was once her burrow, Some had obviously taken the forms of other local rabbits. Luckily, they were able to kill most of them. The mint didn't affect these smaller creatures strangely enough. The popular hypothesis is that the creatures found the documents after killing the previous owner and chose their forms to draw in those curious about the Dionaean 'wolves'. Since they've been driven out, all strange wolven activity has stopped and the town is mostly back to normal. It'll never be a real vacation spot, and you still don't know when you'll be brave enough to take Ordeal up on her offer to come back for a glass of wine, but its something. The wolf research is ongoing but not much else is found. Severe doubt is cast on the books and documents having anything to do with actual wolves. If these Dionaean 'wolves' existed before, they're most likely extinct now. The End.

- You:...Okay. The room is silent for a second. Bleeding Heart fumbles with her axe but doesn't drop it. You turn to Broom. You: Okay? Broom shrugs. Broom: Okay. You turn to Sundew and extend your hand to shake his. He grabs it immediately. When you give your report you get a real nice holiday bonus. Gifblaar is a little mad about it and that makes you feel great because *fuck Gifblaar*. Bleeding Heart steps forward as the original owner of the found documents and books. Your story is that and old family chest passed down through the generations had been taken from her burrow. She had no idea what was in it, but she's sure some cousins of hers have similar chests. She comes with you to claim the items and also as kind of a subtle death threat. That's cool. You respect that. Your bosses are cool with you taking the lead on researching them. The creature is hard to kill but it isn't impossible. Its intolerance to mint combined with the failure of its plan starved it half to death. It was found on the outskirts of town, mauled by a wolf. Since its been killed, all strange wolven activity has stopped and the town is mostly back to normal. It'll never be a real vacation spot, but at least you feel okay with taking Ordeal up on her offer to come back for a glass of wine. You make it to your mom's birthday party. The cake was great. Broom stopped by and now your parents won't stop trying to lure them into a job as a warren apothecary. You think they just want a rabbit on the inside so they never have to wait in line for your dad's prescriptions again. Broom would never have time for that though. It seems there are very few apothecaries that wolves can trust. Being Stars Above Thorns unofficial official apothecary and traveling to all the wolves who've been recommended to them takes them to some wild places. You have peaceful dreams these days. The End.

This is the find of the ages. You hear this in your head, over and over and over with increasing volume. You don't even realize when its coming out of your mouth. The expressions of the three rabbits flood with anger and distress as you plead a case for letting the society into their home. You promise them safety and dignity and all sorts of other things that you know in the back of your mind you'd have no control over once this came out into the open. Broom tries to stop you. Bleeding Heart threatens you. Pitcher just gets up and starts to pace silently. Sundew calls for quiet and the room stills as he stares at you with wet eyes. His voice is steady but quiet. Sundew: Please. Think about this. [[I'm Sorry, I Have To]]

They let you both leave. You didn't think they would. When you return with the team there's nothing there. The tunnels are cleaned out except for the bones of the cultists and other victims. Stars Over Thorns haven is empty. You ask Broom to verify your story but they refuse to talk to you. Every day you scour the Dionaea, one of your team members falls prey to the creature in the woods. You miss your mom's birthday. Your dreams are getting worse. The End.

Delphinium Nigh 72/88 A traitor was found. The king burst into the studio dragging his third wife by her battered ears. She cursed him through her broken teeth with such force that I’m still finding drops of bloody spittle on cushions across the room. Dionaea was out of his seat in a flash when the king ordered he follow him to the execution grounds. I joined the horrified crowd of onlookers, nauseous from fear and trying to delude myself into thinking this was all a mistake. Fourteen rabbits died that day. Five just kits. I was not called upon to illustrate for the first time in a long time. As night fell only the king and Dionaea stood alive in the courtyard. I stayed tucked into an entryway. It was long after he sent everyone else away but observing, especially in this new age of quiet dead, is my calling. Also something inside me felt wary about leaving them alone. The king stood silent and stone still for what felt like hours before Dionaea suggested they come in from the cold. He took a step forward and the king suddenly came to life, grabbing his arm with such force that I almost stepped out of the shadows to stop him. A strange protective impulse considering the carnage I had just seen. Dionaea didn’t move. The king pulled him close and I heard a strained murmur. “Would you ever betray me?” A shiver went down my spine as I physically recoiled. His voice sounded wrong. Like someone shouting down an abandoned tunnel. A slight echo of something sad and malicious. Dionaea shook his head. The king continued to grip his arm, staring him down and nodding slowly. Soon this turned to full body shaking, then broken sobbing, . He clung to Dionaea, dragging him down as he collapsed to the ground and I once again felt the urge to rip him away from the young wolf. Instead I ran back to my studio and locked myself in. I haven’t seen Dionaea in days. I haven’t joined the smattering of people secretly lighting candles and reverently whispering Doe Jequirity’s name in the worker’s passages. Gods I am a coward. Delphinium Mourn 19/120 Recording the wedding was stressful. The girls are cousins from one of the newly overtaken warrens. One wolf and one rabbit, a gift from the king to his favorite weapon. The wolf, Drosera, couldn’t wipe the fear from her eyes, even with the five cups of medicinal tea her Waiting Does forced her to drink throughout the ceremony. The fight for her warren was still too fresh for her to gain total control over her wolven composure. Meanwhile Cicuta just seems to constantly emanate cold anger. She does not let go of her cousin’s hand. Her eyes remind me of the late Doe Jequirity. A fact that the king most certainly noticed. A fact that probably saved her from becoming his next wife. Dionaea tried very hard not to look at or touch either of them once away from the dining hall. After the sketch for their portrait was finalized, they were escorted to his chambers in a wave of slightly terrified Waiting Does. He made no excuses when he grabbed a few cushions and bedded down in the corner of the studio. I did not ask. I can still feel the burn of Cicuta’s eyes on me as I write this. Delphinium Mourn 52/120 I was awoken last night into a most surreal and horrible scenario. It was late when the king beat against my door and shakily ordered me to get up and work. His voice had that wrong sound again. I almost slipped a dagger into my nightclothes. Dionaea lay splayed out on the bench in my studio. He breathing was shallow as he clutched at the bloody fur around the carving knife stabbed deep into his belly. He did not look at me as I yelled his name and used panicked hands to angle his head in my direction while the king tried to bolt the door he had broken to gain entry. He did not look at me as I was grabbed by the scruff of my neck and forced into my chair to orders and threats. I have never worked quicker in my life. All I can remember thinking is that drawing would make it stop. It might at least quell the king’s mania long enough to safely call in one of the medics who were surely joining the worried crowd around the now jammed shut door. Meanwhile, the king sat slumped on the floor clutching Dionaea’s hand. I don’t know how he was holding on so firmly, his wrist was oddly swollen. It was painful to look at. He stroked Donaea’s hand with paternal care, sometimes leaning up to kiss it while he mumbled disjointedly under his breath. “you could have killed me you know. You could have…could have t-turned and killed me. C-clawed out my throat, buried you tEEth in my belly but you didn’t because you knew I had to. They had to SEE they didn’t BELIEVE even when they saw me on on on the battlefield, even though they wATCHed all these years I had to DO this to make them…understand…my Loyalest they don’t have faith like you do, they don’t truly believe in my f-forever rein…” There was more but I can’t remember it all. My head was swimming as I drew, half focusing on speed and half terrified that if the finished product wasn’t to the kings liking that he would fly into another violent frenzy and make me start over. When I was finished I whipped it off the easel so fast it tore. The king looked at, an exhausted calm settling on his face as he nodded and loosened his grip on Dionaea’s hand “put it with the rest,” he said, “this needs to be remembered.” As I placed the drawing at my desk I was starting to feel the nausea that comes with an intense adrenaline rush. I steadied myself and made for the door to summon a medic, but before I could cross the room I was struck by the anguished cry triggered by the king dragging the knife from the wound. He then calmly told him to turn. I have never seen anything more horrifying. I’ve heard of wolves turning on the battlefield to quickly heal wounds but I’ve never seen it. The twisting and cracking…the SLOWness of it. The deep hollow whimpers that escaped from him as his new mass filled my studio. I think I screamed. The king just stared as the huge newly formed creature lost consciousness and collapsed on the floor. I suppose I did the same. When I woke up this morning I was lying on the bench wrapped in one of my spare cloaks. Dionaea was back to normal and curled up in the corner under one of my cleaner painting tarps. Breakfast was delivered and far more elaborate than rations should allow. I saw the king in passing but he did not speak to me. All evidence of his wounded wrist has disappeared. One of the cooks told me it all started in the dining hall. There was a late dinner, a few off color remarks by the king about Cicuta, and alleged growl from Dionaea that was followed by the king falling into a chilling, enraged, silence. An advisor attempted to lighten the mood by joking that no one was more loyal to their king than their mate. The next anyone knew the king was picking up the knife and ordering Dionaea to his side. He made him stand swearing the oath of fealty ten times with it lodged in his belly while he stared down all the nobles in dining hall grinning as if possessed. If I hadn’t seen the fall of this warren I would say it was just that, but I know this cruelty to be common now. No one knew what happened when he suddenly dragged to wounded wolf away but is seems my screams reached farther down into the warren than I would ever guess. Dionaea has slept off and on all day. The guards have not called him for his shift and I doubt they will anytime soon. I can’t remember when I wasn’t last afraid of my home. Delphinium Mourn 64/120 Dionaea walks all of his guard shifts as a wolf now. He says he doesn’t want to take the time to turn in case something happens. There have been stirs of rebellion. That was...a lot to digest. Those cultists were definitely onto something. Also your head hurts. The three day deadline feels more and more inadequate. Your brain needs a refresher. [[Take A Break]]

You both run. You know you can't outrun it. You feel it steadily gaining ground like you feel your blood pounding in your ears. You stumble and disjointed fingers lined with yellowing teeth rake across your back, tearing off your cloak. When you fall The Priest's momentum takes it's body past you and you hear Broom cry out as it spins to face you. It whips an arm towards you, aiming for your throat. Instead, your shoulder is gouged open as the force of the wolf slamming into its chest knocks it off course. You feel Broom drag you to your feet and you're running again. You catch a glimpse of pure carnage as the Priest digs those terrible hands into the ribs of the wolf who now has its teeth buried in the monster's throat. You hear a sharp yelp, but from the sound of the scuffle behind you it doesn't let go. You run. Neither of you know where you're going at this point but you refuse to waste the precious time gained from that strangely vengeful wolf. As you crest a hill Broom suddenly grabs your arm and drags you to a stop. You don't even feel the wounds in your shoulder because of the adrenaline but the idea of stopping somehow physically pains you. Broom points a shaking finger through a gap in the trees below. Broom: Th-The Road! If we follow it w-we should be able to get to an inn! At the exact moment a wave of relief washes over you, you spot something else through the trees. A cloaked figure runs toward a crumbling well that glows from within. You point them out to Broom, and you both watch as they climb inside. You: I-is that a burrow? Broom: I dunno! No one lives this far in the woods because of the wolves. Do you think we can trust them? Or would it be better to try and head back into town? [[Run Towards The Main Road]] [[Run Towards The Light]]

There's a hooded stranger waiting for you. They walk with a cane and extend their hand in greeting as they approach. It trembles slightly and something about it looks...off. Stranger: Excuse me, are you Larkspur? You nod hesitantly and shake the offered hand. You feel the bones inside shift slightly in your grip. Stranger: My name is Sundew and I...Please. I need you to follow me. [[Go About Your Business]] [[Follow Sundew]]

You run. You know you can't outrun it. You feel it steadily gaining ground. Your lungs burn. Broom's blood clumps in your fur. You can hear it behind you. Its going to catch you. The Priest laughs. When they find you the next day you're alive, lying in the middle of the main road just outside of town. When you wake up a week later in the historical society's hospital you remember falling. You must have hit your head and blacked out. You don't know how you got to the road. You tell them everything you can remember. You tell them about the Priest. You're surprised and overjoyed when you learn that Broom is alive and completely healed to boot. That blow to the head looked pretty fatal. They corroborate your account of the attack and provided a much clearer description of the creature than you do. The grotesque monster you imagined has only a passing resemblance to the one they find crushed under the rocks in the ravine. He must have followed you over the edge and started a small rockslide. You're amazed he came out worse than you did. The biology department still can't stop talking about the body. An unbalanced fusion of wolf and rabbit characteristics, the first of its kind ever seen! Your colleagues think this must be a mid-form of the 'turning' the journals talk about. Its too bad that the body decomposed so quickly but they've found other specimens that they were able to at least partially preserve. This is mostly thanks to Broom. Recently they've been working with the investigation team permanently stationed there and their expert knowledge of the area has led to many valuable finds. The society still hasn't found a way to stop the attacks and most civilians have abandoned the town, but there's no shortage of scientists and historians willing to venture into the unknown for such amazing discoveries. Everything turns out Just. Fine. The End.

You wind up on the very outskirts of town in a very strange place. After climbing down a well that serves as a well-hidden entryway, you are escorted into the front room of a very small burrow. Or at least you think its small until a door is opened and you see stairs leading straight down. You follow the stranger down the stairs into a kitchen, or is it a common room? The ceilings are high and you pass an array of Charms, clothes lines, and large planters hanging from beams as you descend. There are windows set in the ceiling that are pasted with pressed flowers and herbs, creating a stained glass effect. It bathes half of the room colorful speckled light. Cushions and blankets are piled in the corner near baskets of books and toys. A large tunnel entrance covered in a curtain of colorful beads and fabric scraps takes up a third of a wall. Two very surprised house-moths wake up from their nap on the rug by the warm glowing stove and twitch their antennae in irritation. It’s way too big for a proper burrow, more like a hollowed out warren, but someone was dedicated to making it very cozy. Sundew: Welcome to Stars Over Thorns haven. He motions for you both to have a seat while he puts on a kettle of tea. The trip here seems to have tired him out and even though you and Broom offer to help, he insists he's fine. He sits down in front of you and takes a deep breath. Sundew: Society representative Larkspur? These recent events aren't because of the wolves. I know you were told those papers were found in the old tunnels, but that's only half true. They were stolen from the archives of one of the past overseers of this place. There are many secrets in the tunnels but the ones those cultists found were just part of a lure by that...thing. You've seen it before. Its currently disguising itself as a rabbit named False Parsley. It killed him. That's what it does. It kills and impersonates, makes it easier to gather information and manipulate people and kill again. And it does all this to attract the curious. I don't know if its specific people or just anyone with large amounts of curiosity in them it craves, but you were brought here as a result of its actions. It used those cultists as a lure. If it gets the chance, it'll use you as a lure too. You: If that's true, then were the documents all forged by this thing? Sundew: No. Those journals are real. Dionaea was real. I'm just...sick of hiding. Sick of this thing using us. I want to try something. I'm offering a trade. I give you information and you tell your people there's nothing to see here. No one goes in the tunnels anymore. No more strangers in town. You:...Sundew. Are you a wolf? He chuckles bitterly and rubs the side of his face. His arms seem slightly longer. Sundew: Not right now. You hear something clatter to the floor near the tunnel entrance and you smell peppermint. Suddenly there's an axe in your face. The rabbit on the other end of it doesn't look happy. The rabbit who rushes over to sundew also doesn't seemed too pleased about what's happening. You and Broom try to look like people who shouldn't be murdered. Sundew: **Bleeding Heart!** Get that axe out of our guest's faces! And you- Sundew slaps away the protective arm placed in front of him. Sundew: I don't need protecting in *my own damn kitchen* Pitcher! Gods you two, can't I have company? The tea kettle starts to whistle. Bleeding Heart does not appreciate your work with the society. She will not put down the axe, even as she carries the tea tray out. Pitcher meanwhile seems to demand constant physical contact with Sundew and alternating menacing eye contact with both of you. Sundew: I'm sorry. We don't usually have unfamiliar guests. Bleeding Heart: Technically the last one was a **thief**. Pitcher: I think you mean **grave-robber** sister but I can see how you would get confused. Sundew: *Please you two we talked about this.* They *had* talked about this. For quite some time. And from the angry whispering you heard you gather this isn't the first time they've had this conversation. You do gather that you are not the first historian they've ever met and that the few skulls the society had found in the past might not have been obtained respectfully. You feel pretty shitty about this but your apologies don't make the axe lower. Once the room is settled again Sundew tells you about wolves. [[Listen]]

Sundew tells you about wolves. Wolves were socially forbidden from creation. They were seen as creatures of pure destructive force and they couldn’t have hobbies or actions besides protecting and procreation. This was seen as purity and loyalty to all rabbit kind. They could watch performances or listen to stories but they were never taught things like writing or cooking because there’s so much leeway for the creation of something new. All wolven culture is actually mostly oral histories, because just talking about their experiences was allowed and making up songs and stories was easy to get away with because you claim you heard it elsewhere. Wolves were spoken of as revered beasts of burden who were kept in lavish living spaces, supplied with fine clothes, and given the best food. Almost everything was done for them. The end goal was to make them completely dependent on their warrens and families. It was pretty much so that wolves believed they would die out on their own and would be more faithful. Also just…fear. Wolves are huge and powerful. Rabbits aren’t. We survive by sticking together. Its harder to trust something when you think it can overpower you any time it wants. It served as a caste thing too. Rabbits that had wolves turn on them or run away were seen as disgraceful and deserving of their fates. Smaller warrens or single burrows would only have one or two wolves and any others born there were shipped off at a very young age to bigger warrens to serve as guardians because they didn’t want to deal with them. They tested kits really young. Parent who knew they couldn’t provide for a wolf didn’t want to get attached. The wolves that did the turning or running were considered animals. In all but extreme cases they were killed. You've probably read the journals about Dionaea. Wolves weren't supposed to be used as weapons against other rabbits. He was considered a savage, even when he killed the rabbit responsible for turning this entire area of the island into a silent grave. His wives took over the negotiations and warren management. Theirs became the first warren with self sufficient wolves. Wolves started migrating there and other warrens who are appreciative of the king being gone still find this warren sinful and terrible. It helps that the old king smashed all the skulls of those who lived there whether they died naturally or were executed. The only history of his conquest was the history he wrote and that story was very different and equally lost to time. Mistrust of wolves grew and this was all seen as a wolven uprising. Fear ruled, wolves were put under even heavier scrutiny, lynching started, and wolves fled. They took everything they could with them, hoping to start over. Thing are muddled during this time. Something called them to the center of the island and its been calling ever since. They knew back then that frequent turning was dangerous but some didn’t have a choice against the dangers at the center. As time went on though they noticed that turning was becoming involuntary. It became hard to think normally when turned and the process became an uneven mockery of the former control wolves had over it. Turning could take months, only for the body to stay fully wolf or rabbit for a day and start the process all over again. For some it was unpredictable, turning any social interaction with non-wolves risky. The worst were those with bodies in constant flux, transforming back and forth every hour, sometimes every minute. Not to mention the fact that it made breeding impossible. Turning changes the body too much to support a fetus. The constant turning stressed their bodies unbelievably and killed many people. The only thing they found that made it manageable was rabbit blood which stabilized their turning to predictable schedules. This was doable for a time. Many rabbits without wolf blood had left with their children or lovers and it didn’t take much. A drop or two each day. This new cure brought on more changes though. Some were manageable and some…well. It was found that the closer to the center wolves lived, the more rabbit blood they craved. This combined with being turned too long and losing themselves created the wolves that hunt rabbits. Most of those wolves turn once when they reach maturity and never turn back. Wolves, when they start turning, naturally gravitate towards the center. You’ve heard the stories of kits running away after attacks? That’s it calling to them. Something about the proximity of a turned wolf and the rabbit blood. But we’ve found ways to stop the long-term turning if we can get to them before they have their first turn there. Ways to overcome the call and stop the craving. There are some wolves now that can even control their turning like in the Dionaea times. There aren’t a lot of us and its difficult to form connections but we’ve built little communities here and there. This is one of them. We’re the last hope for young wolves caught in the call. Kits that make it this far…Its difficult for them. Some will learn to control it but some will never pass as a rabbit or a wolf. I’m one of them. My body’s constantly changing. I become fully ‘wolf’ or ‘rabbit’ every two days. If I hadn’t found this place as a kit I would have been feral or dead. (He takes Pitcher’s hand, lacing their mismatched fingers together. You realize the hateful look in his eyes has turned into something more like fear as Sundew talked. Bleeding Heart gives him a gentle pat on the arm and goes back to quietly menacing you with the axe) A lot of people I love would be. So again. I’m suggesting a trade. I help you with what we’ve collected of the past, and you stay quiet about the present. You tell your society that there’s nothing in the tunnels worth looking for. This island might be the true home of rabbits, but you’re a historian. You know how rabbits deal with what they think are monsters. These children don’t hurt their own kind. They don’t deserve to be avoided or destroyed. [[Keep Their Secret]] [[Do Your Job]]