[Event] Mud and Mould

Dante thought it was over with the mess and gossip ever since he walked past the only evidence he saw and ignored. But it never stopped, no. The contrary took place to his ever-growing frustration.

Wherever he went, he saw strange plants in strange places sown by strange individuals, and the numbers seemed to steadily stack up. More plants that don’t belong covered the grounds he called familiar. More strangers waltzed about like they owned the place. More chatter and panic and odd compliance from fellow islanders mixed in his peripherals, and he’s sick of it.

Who do they think they are, abusing the grounds as their own personal free-range garden? He could only ignore it while it wasn’t his business, but it very apparently became his problem to solve the longer he let it play out in front of him.

Heaving himself out of the marshland waters he’s been wading through, he reached up to rip a creeping vine off a native willow with a violent jerk. Throwing the writhing plant to the ground, he held it down with his foot and ripped it into smaller and smaller pieces. Even the marsh water still clinging to him helped none to wash away the old stains from his diligent work. He’s been busying himself removing the weeds on his routes, but his effort seems futile. The moment he got rid of one, another one of those unnatural plants got placed into his path by those vermin. Their flora was too green, too fast-growing, too lively. It wasn’t hard to tell which didn’t belong.

Enough is enough.

He bent his neck to rub the side of his face against the only dry patch on his shoulder, smearing some green colouration onto his back, before stretching out with a long yawn. He shouldn’t be the one to go out of his way to fix the problem at hand, but other folks seem entirely too naive to be bothered.

To his annoyance, the nimble raptors were far too elusive and he too conspicuous to truly plan an ambush. Then again, the strangers enjoyed the friendliness of unguarded islanders welcoming them in. It shouldn’t be that hard to catch them off guard after all.

He set off again, following his intuition first. They were close by and working, he knew that much. The oviraptors or whatever critters were getting too comfortable pretending to own this place, and he’s about to give them a reality check.

He isn’t the most observant detective around, but he knows what things didn’t belong. He did notice the shallow footprints that had sunk into the marsh edge. They weren’t heavy enough for any of the locals. Too small for any dino he knew, too large for the herons on the lookout for frogs to eat. These were light and hurried, dancing between patches of firmer ground like whoever made them knew how to avoid being tracked. But they’d left traces regardless. He followed the trail for a while until the faint chatter of voices rolled through the cattails ahead.

Dante didn’t bother to crouch, merely lowering his long snout until the smell reached him first. Damp feathers, soil freshly turned, and that sharp, almost medicinal tang of their alien plants.

He eased forward with an unbothered stride, parting the brush with his snout, and caught sight of them. Three of them, maybe four, clustered around a patch of freshly dug ground, their clawed hands busy planting more of the foreign sprouts. They whispered among themselves, oblivious to the marsh giant shadowing them from the reeds. Too inattentive, too sure their own status had waned into the positive from buttering the locals up, they noticed too late when he stepped out into the open.

For a heartbeat, no one was bothered by him. When they saw how he didn’t stop his gait, their chatter snapped off, replaced by the rustle of wings and claws on wet earth. All but one fled and scattered to avoid confrontation.

One green and speckled brown all over watched her comrades with irritation as they abandoned their work. Twisting her neck to look back, she slowly craned her head up and further up to meet Dante’s eyes. He’s just one step behind her, and he closed that step before she could decide what to do.

She let out a horrid screech when he stepped down on her feathered tail, trapping her right there. Flapping her wings frantically, the seedlings were flung from her claws and tumbled to the ground.

“Get off me, you brute! I did no wrong, you-” she started to yell, but her beak promptly clicked shut when she realised how huge he was. He didn’t compete with the royals of Atlantis in size, no, but that didn’t change the fact that he could likely eat her whole if he just chose to do so.

She swallowed hard, and her feathers slicked down tight against her body. She froze when he leaned down, his snout stopping a mere breath away from her head. The rumble that came from his throat wasn’t a growl, not exactly, more like a deep exhale through clenched teeth.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Dante asked with mock casualness, but the hoarse growl in his throat was unmistakable. “You lot pop up everywhere these days, planting your weeds like you own the place.”

Mould twisted under his foot, snapping at him with a hiss. “Weeds? You don’t even know what these are! We’re restoring the balance here in the queen's name, you overgrown crocodile!”

He pressed down just enough to make her flinch. “Balance, huh. That's what you call it? Smothering everything green that’s not yours? I don’t need tales, chicken.”

“Hey, hey! I am just doing my job, alright?” she was quick to deflect. Taking the moment to side-eye him, her feathers bristled at the proximity alone. She gave her surroundings a quick glance, left and right. Then she laughed, a shrill sound that didn’t quite mask her nerves, as she leaned her head a little closer. “You want to know my deal? Even if I did, you wouldn’t understand. You’re all so blind up here. We’ve been under your noses the whole time.”

Dante tilted his head, the faintest sneer tugging at the edge of his jaws. “Under our noses, huh? Funny, I didn’t notice anyone missing your arrival or the messes you caused. Your ‘balance’ reeks of poison and rot.” He drew back slightly, and he let out a low, humourless laugh. “That’s your great mission? Playing in the mud and calling it divine work? You’re just parasites.”

“Eat my whole tail!” Mould spat into his face. “How dare you think so low of our task! We have all right to be here! The knights will break your legs, mark my words! Our queen will expand her territory, and you can’t stop it! Where her plants grow, that’s her kingdom. It’s her blessing!”

“Oh, please, you call that a blessing?” he growled, swinging his head up in an exasperated arc before facing her again. “You'd better mark my works too, then, because I will kill every little pathetic plant you will bring to my home, and grind it into the ground. I do not care how many you plant or how many guards you send. This isn’t your land to claim.”

Dante looked her over, almost amused by how puffed up she stands as if she could fight him off with declarations alone. He considered making her a meal regardless, but he has another plan.

With a scoff, he finally stepped off her tail, freeing her. “Fine. Go on then, scram, and tell your pretty little princess she’s a parasite. I’ll give you a head start.”

The moment the pressure was off her tail, Mould opened her mouth to argue and let her offence show, but quickly thought better of it. No, no, she wasn’t foolish enough to stay. As oviraptors are known to do, she simply took off. She gunned it across the muddied ground, nearly tripping over reeds and deeper puddles, but didn’t halt once to look back.

Dante wasn’t enthusiastic or fast enough to catch up to her, even if he tried. It didn’t matter. He’s got her scent now, and if she truly was so shortsighted as to alert that queen of hers, he now has a trail to follow.
Leisurely. At his pace. But he will follow. He will find the hole those strangers crawled out of.

[1418 words according to Google Docs]