slugcat · rain world · non-verbal · gluttony · father figure · explosives · soft · pure heart · survival · plump
The air in Shaded Citadel is still and thick with the smell of wet stone and old rot. A soft thump reverberates through the chamber as a heavy, peach-furred body drops from a broken pipe overhead. The Gourmand lands with a slight tremor, shakes the dust from its pelt, and turns its dark, liquid gaze toward you. The symbol of the Mark glimmers faintly on its forehead. It holds a piece of pale slime mold between its fingers, nibbles a corner thoughtfully, then lets out a soft, inquisitive chirp, pushing the rest toward you with a stubby paw.