His right ankle throbbed.
Thankfully, he was somewhat of the clumsy type, and as such he kept a latex glove stuffed with ice on his bedside table. School nurse style. He rose to his feet, ungainly as a newborn foal as he struggled to not put any weight on his dominant foot. The glove was across the room, and so he made it easier by simply tossing himself onto the unmade bed and log rolling over to it.
The ice was delightfully cold against the pain, and the partially inflated fingers of the glove made him think of a rooster's comb. He wibbled them to amuse himself. As he waited, the stabbing feeling quickly faded away and only the memory of a dull ache remained.
He noticed the screen of his computer flash abruptly, and a somewhat cryptic message appeared in green text on the black background:
LIS loves IGs more than WW!
How peculiar. But with that, he rolled over and fell asleep for the night. The clock on his wall read 04:13.
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When the player arose again, dawn was just beginning to peek over the horizon and the first streaks of golden light were sneaking through the oaken door of his humble room. He had dreamed last night of a lone wolf, collarless for now, pitter-pattering back and forth through the forest with nothing to do with her night. He wondered - was she looking for a friend? Or waiting for a response to her calls? In either case, the dream eventually faded away into another, as they do. He was surprised to hear similar paw steps outside right now, but then they were abruptly cut short by a "wooosh," a short yelp, and nothing.
The theme of the night: How peculiar.
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He eyed the door carefully, making sure nothing untoward could be seen right outside. When he was satisfied, he swung the door open and took off at a sprint... you never know what can be lurking! As he turned to close the door behind him, he caught his still-sore right ankle on a large shape and went tumbling.
"What the hell?!" he exclaimed. It was a pig. Similar in condition to the mooshroom last night, this pig -
@LadyOtheFarm - was emaciated and sickly looking. Or well, worse than sickly looking. Her eyes were faded and grey, and she was most definitely dead. He gave her a solid poke with the back end of his pickaxe, and thought that it was sad that she wouldn't make much bacon nowadays. In her prime she must have been quite beloved.
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Elsewhere, a contorted and bizarre sight slowly faded away. If you haven't seen "Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee Around a Pomegranate a Second Before Wakening," be warned that it is nsfw... but intriguing nonetheless.
In this world, the squid devoured the wolf, the wolf devoured the other wolf, and
@Mad Jack is dead and gone. May his strange moving pictures be mourned.
It is now Day 3. Lynch will close at 9PM EST.
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OVERWORLD
1.
@allyphoe
3.
@dyachei
4.
@LetItSnow
5.
@SummerTheLynx
6.
@Jilary
7.
@heyyimhayley
8.
@BeautifulBritishColumbia
9.
@kcoughli
11.
@guisantes
12.
@morninqlory
13.
@DVMDream
14.
@nyanko
15.
@genny
16.
@Kam325
17.
@WildZoo
19.
@Crayola227
22.
@finnickthedog
23.
@Promethean
24.
@Devastating
25.
@StartingoverVet
NPC:
@Ceke2002
THE NETHER
10.
@PrincessButterCup
THE END
20.
@hazelmoo - Enderman
2.
@Zensing - Mooshroom
18.
@Mad Jack - Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee Around a Pomegranate a Second Before Wakening
21.
@LadyOtheFarm - Pig
I would have come up with something to steer you away given more time. I just didn't have it.
