[justify]For a phenomenon that scientists routinely describe as falling through a crack between universes, the process of surprisingly gentle, one moment you are: [i]Courting a beautiful woman… Beating a man within an inch of his life… Disposing the garbage… Cradled in the hands of a new god… Relaxing in your swamp…[/i] And the next you’re gone, the world goes black, and you’re dreaming. *** You awaken to the sound of a hundred different mouths chewing their food at the same time… The ground is hard and sticky, rocks jut out uncomfortably into the body you recklessly laid over it. The air is moist, wherever you are this must be the worst season, and you are surrounded by trees. You’re in the forest, you’re in the forest and you’re sprawled out on moist soil, listening to a hundred somethings enjoy the last ravenous meal of their lives. Clarity seems to take forever—but not really. Soon you realize that that steadily moving mound on the edge of your vision isn’t actually blurry it’s just a dozen different massive fuzzy lumps having their way with the body of someone just like you who wasn’t lucky enough to wake in time… They are the [b]Perfect Food[/b]. They resemble pill bugs with their round armored shells and dull brown bodies but with white fur. They flow across the ground on a thousand tiny unseen legs with just as many mouths beneath them to devour whatever they crawl over. They resemble pill bugs except for the fact that they are the size of a great dane. Their fat bodies must weight in excess of two-hundred pounds and if you were to strike one you would find that unlike most insects, they do not squish, they are thick and meaty. When they bleed it is a juicy tantalizing red. You don’t know this—you’ll never know this unless you ask the right people the wrong questions, but once upon a time, Reverence Institutional thought these [i]things[/i] were the solution to world hunger until it became clear that their idea of perfect food also made for an eerily durable predator. There is no one else around you, the forest is quiet in their presence, and as you stir the first of those things turns towards you in quiet eyeless realization. Detecting you in some unknowable way. Maybe it was the vibrations in the ground or maybe it was the stilling of your breath, then it folds its body up, exposes its horrible gore smattered underbelly to you and hisses with too many mouths. If you haven’t moved by now it decides to lunge on the closest body it can find, flinging into the air, somewhere deep down inside of its primal mind it has decided the green-haired human is probably the closest thing to an actual predator among its list of potential victims. Mentally. They have all decided to gloss over the oversized reptile. Crocodiles in Empyrea have long since learned to give them a wide berth and vice versa, why should things be any different this time around?[/justify] [@Liaison] [@54v] [@Drifting Pollen] [@Spider Pickle] [@Alucroas]