GC: Dunno. Just looking for the shoreline myself. Fairly sure ahm lost.
GC: This GPS is piss poor.
RB: @WELL SWEET MOTHER GRUBS PULSATING EGGSAC NO SHIT YOURE LOST@
GC: Pfahahah. Thought ah might be.
GC: Your really in the middle of nowhere.
GC: But ahm used to nowheres. Gonna try to spot your hive. For the hellofit.
RB: @UHHH@
RB: @I GUESS@
RB: @WATCH OUT FOR THE CLUCKBEASTS@
RB: @CLUCKZILLA WILL DRAW BLOOD@
Drones take you now holy shit. You step away from the computer and you feel your bloodpusher pound in your chest.
No one has been out here in a long time.
You haven’t let anyone be out here for a long time.
Not since then.
Holy shit you need to get your facepaint on holy fuck.
You hear the pesterchum notifier go off. Auuuugh.
Makeup donned, you peer out the window, or at least you try to. Your horns are getting in the way.
miss my hive miss my hive stay lost miss my hive, you think to yourself.
This is nerve wracking.