Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-27669385-20170105235307/@comment-27039035-20170117003346

After Diabolos's fall from grace, all he did was lay around camp and stare into space. His mouth hung open too, and flies kept going inside. Being dead was no fun.

Roscoe hightailed it into his den, weaving past all the strange things hanging from the ceiling: crows beak, rat skull, snake skins, fungi, etc. "Wait one second, I just need to grab my supplies." He mumbled other random nonsense under his breath before emerging a few minutes later with a mouth full of herbs. "Aha! Here we go. Just the stuff." He wagged his tail triumphantly, rearend wiggling with joy too, and walked back over to Squeak. "This stuff will make you feel better, promise. Now just sit still while I apply it onto your wounds."