It's a door that references a song that let's someone skinwalk you so the watcher who targeted the kill sees you do it come on guys you are acting like its convoluted
It's a door that references a song that let's someone skinwalk you so the watcher who targeted the kill sees you do it come on guys you are acting like its convoluted
Dear Village,
It has been my honor, and privilege to be a co-mayor to you all thus far. This is a role I do not take lightly. I have a difficult task ahead of me, and I must say a few words beforehand. Some of which are hot takes. Please hold your bleats till the end everyone. First, I vibe with Beans so some of y'all need to fix your reads. Second, while my wonderful co-mayor is well intentioned, I fear she has been seduced by the evil whispers of her wife, Mads. Third! @potentialsheltervet for the crimes against my town you will get what you deserve!
I'm questioning the assumption on Lissa is red if PSV is green. Like PSV's story is independent of Lissa.
The world where Lissa did the kill, PSV as town gets the achy breaky barn door item, passes out, is seen at the kill for entirely nonsense reasons meanwhile Lissa claims an otherwise seen item, describes what it does and gives a result based on it that makes sense, and killed that player anyway?
I have a very serious PM for my co-mayor, NO ONE ELSE CAN OPEN OK
ya picked wrong ya dingus
hey girlie I got a question about your reads list. I understand Mads is your wife and all but she was HOWLING yesterday. And I don’t get how greedy is so low, please explain bestie. And I say this with love, if you want to be re-elected you might need to drop the wife, she’s gonna ruin your political career
XOXO,
your co-mayor
yeah i fear that i’m actually going to have to drop the allegiance with my wife which actually breaks my heart bc i love her so much but i’ve seen the wolfyness and i cannot unsee. i also feel pressure from the public to make this divorce happen as they do not see her for the beautiful, innocent creature she is, but rather a wolf
F in chat for divorce. i have become just like my parents
The normally jubilant bleats of festivalgoers were muted as dawn broke over Gruffendale. The oat bars were only half-grazed. The instrumental warm-ups were slower, warier. Something had shifted in the hearts of the goats.
Because General Hoofinstein McScuttle was dead.
He’d been found at dawn in his tent, eyes wide, jaw slack, cloven hooves frozen mid-scratch, a trail of spilled mineral licks beside him. The official cause? Unknown. But the whispers were spreading like burrs in fleece.
“Poisoned timothy hay, maybe.”
“A cursed woolbrush!”
“I told him not to trust the celery snacks.”
But no theory was as chilling as the one that crept through the ranks of elder goats and hipster bleatniks alike:
Lady Fluffernuzzle von Maaahstein.
Elegant. Mysterious. The belle of the pasture.
And—according to one wide-eyed teen goat who had stayed out late to practice interpretive bleating—seen near the General's tent the night before.
“She said she was ‘just taking a moonlit trot,’ but why bring her cloak with the secret pocket?”
“And her beard pomade—smelled faintly of betrayal.”
“Her eyes were too soft.”
As the goats gathered near the main field, festival security tried to maintain order. Lady Fluffernuzzle arrived as scheduled for the noonday hay ribbon cutting, her hooves polished, her expression serene. But the crowd stiffened.
She stepped forward, poised. “Good Gruffendale, I -”
CRACK.
A single shot rang out from behind Stage B. Goats scattered, screaming in terror. Fluffernuzzle staggered, a dart lodged just beneath her ear tag.
She fell to the ground, breathing in ragged gasps.
“WHO FIRED THAT?”
“IT SEEMED LIKE IT WAS FROM BACK THERE! BEHIND STAGE B!”
From behind a curtain, a small goat emerged, raccoon-like goggles crooked, hooves trembling with adrenaline.
“I had to do it,” he bleated. “She was Bad Nooz. I found the proof in her tent - coded hay schedules, and a badge. A badge with a dark hoofprint.” He held it up. The crowd gasped.
Lady Fluffernuzzle coughed once.
Her last words? "You’ll never stop us... we’re already among you..."
Then she expired in a most theatrical fashion.
And with that, her fleece stilled.
Silence. Then:
“She was Bad Nooz?”
“Confirmed.”
“General McScuttle can rest now.”
The air lightened. The clouds parted. Someone fainted dramatically in joy. Another proudly proclaimed "THE GANG: Fruitless, but not hopeless!" and looked toward the pasture far, far away with nostalgia and sorrow for their fallen comrades.
The village of Gruffendale breathed out as one, a great sigh of relief.
But not victory.
Because somewhere, beyond the compost pile and the old cider crates, others were watching.
Goats in shadows. Eyes glinting. Were they Bad Nooz? Or could some other dark forces be at play too?
You are Lady Fluffernuzzle von Maaahstein. You once posed as a celebrity alpaca to sneak into an elite barnyard gala. You drink only rainwater filtered through moss and scream whenever someone says the word “turnip.”
I mean we are all vanilla so unless theres mechanics im not understanding someone can just claim responsibility but I took the meme to be a pre claim of it.
Like if mads is town, scum is never killing her and there will always be a pretty large faction, who are now even less likely to be scum who would always want it cleared at some point.
Like if mads is town, scum is never killing her and there will always be a pretty large faction, who are now even less likely to be scum who would always want it cleared at some point.
if that dumb achy breaky back or whatever it was called is real, does that mean she was converted through that? and if its not real, then does that mean converted confirms 3p?
Unlikely I want to go too far down the rabbit hole on a town flip when scum can maybe still recruit and it informs the kill. I'll probably do a write up of my overall reads after night actions are locked, but opinions here and there will inevitably leak out as I play the game