[That makes no sense at all. Is their...have they never met another blue-skin, in their entire life? Were they the only one of their kind? It makes no sense. None of it. None of it. They're laboring to make some sense of the point - when a spiked spore abruptly smashes into the rock they were planning to use as a handhole, sending chunks of stone pinwheeling toward them.]
[The Drifter ducks. Conversation, it seems, will have to wait.]
above
[The Lungblossom's waving tendrils are unmistakable.]
no subject
[The Drifter ducks. Conversation, it seems, will have to wait.]
above
[The Lungblossom's waving tendrils are unmistakable.]