It was a beautiful night for a big, fuck-off bonfire.

As the lights in Pegasus dimmed for the evening, Tsvetok slunk out of the alcove it had been napping in. Earlier, it'd managed to take down one of the deer here; the large, burly ones-- (well, it'd found an injured one, but it still counted in their opinion) --and dragged it back to crunch into it. Little remained of the affair, except for the remaining feeling of fullness in the Valkhound's belly.

But it was.... bored.

Someone had the bright idea to instill an urge to destroy within Tsvetok. Great for your vast army of slavering, chaotic freaks who run out and kill and eat whatever they can. Less great for the local wildlife in the nest you grew it in. A hill up in the meadows immediately caught its eye, and it ran quickly up.

There would be some who would take in the sights; the flowers rustling in a faint wind, the glowing orbs on the walls and ceiling dimming and un-dimming lazily as it prepared for a pseudo-twilight. There were also some, like Tsvetok, who wanted it all dead and gone and buried.

What a great place for a fire.

Glowing bile rose in its throat, decorating the dark feathers with deep, internal light. It reared its head back, choking and then regurgitating white-hot bile onto the ground in front of it. The grass was a little dry, but sparse. Though it quickly took root and began flaming up into the ceiling, it was quickly cornered and left to burn atop the little hill.

Perfect, it though (or at least, it would have if it had any internal monologue). And then Tsvetok started thumping down the hill again to watch its work from afar.

@Worm

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

Vomit

Gross depictions of hairball-like happenings?

Pegasus had been nice. 'Had' being the keyword.

The smell of something putrid and.. burning..? Was something burning? Hit Worm's nostrils and offended his senses. Why was there a fire here? He distinctly remembered being told that Pegasus was nice, and it had been—idyllic meadows and flowers surrounded by hills. It was almost one of the nicest places Worm had been. Almost.

It'd taken some jittery following of his nose to find the source, some nasty-looking liquid on some dry grass that was starting to catch. Every instinct screamed at Worm to flee, but that wouldn't fix anything.

He hadn't had much chance to practice this 'magic' thing, but he'd seen others do it. So, surely he must also be capable. Surely.

On shaking legs, he wobbled closer to the fire and began to make an awful retching noise. It was an absolutely foul sight to behold. Worm's eyes bulged as his head bobbed with the times of his gagging, his ears pinned back. Until after a few very heroic retches, he spewed up water with all the elegance of a cat hacking up a hairball.

Delightful.

Most of it landed on the fire, extinguishing where the dryer grass was beginning to catch. Yet, the inexperienced cat had yet to figure out how to angle it through the air to land on that white-hot ick.

@Tsvetok

In theory, Tsvetok had never been happier.

Full belly. Horrible fire burning in the distance. It might have wished for Timir there, to enjoy its good mood with its friend, but Tsvetok wasn't exactly good at the whole cognizant thought thing. Or the friend thing, for that matter.

But then, the fire was suffocating. It was furious.

It scrambled to its feet at once, loping unevenly up the hill. It saw, dimly, a creature hunched over, puking on its beautiful bonfire. "HEY!!!" Tsvetok bellowed-- because it had to be louder than everything else to assert dominance, of course. "THAT'S MINE!!!"

It reared its head back and spat another globule of hot bile over the patch of soggy grass. The fluid hissed angrily as it made contact with Worm's water, hissing away. It was dry and lightly on fire, now, the little remnants that Worm didn't catch still smoldering.

Tsvetok's red-hot face swung back to Worm. "THAT WAS MINE!!!" It repeated into his face, screaming. "YOU RUINED IT!!"

@Worm

Between having dried his eyes out, being so close to fire, and the shouting, Worm could only squint at the stranger who was yelling at him. His head screamed 'run, run, RUN', but being bullied had quickly grown old. He was sick of it! Being all pushed around!

So, he did the only good, intelligent thing someone should do when someone runs at you screaming.

He screamed back.

"THAT WAS NASTY! IT SMELT BAD AND GOT RID OF THE FLOWERS!" Worm's shouting was not nearly as good as his green-blue stranger; his voice wobbled and dipped. Not to mention, the kitten was trembling all over when he did it.

Though he found it wasn't all out of fear, but some deep-seated adrenaline that was not coursing through his veins. It was still mostly fear. But, as soon as he was done shouting, his eyes opened wide as the gembound apparently shocked himself.

That had felt pretty good.

"YOU RUINED IT FIRST!" He yowled, before arching his head and making that very same nasty retching. Coughing up more water into the white-hot ick, and just because he could, he splashed the chicken too. Not with the high-pressure hose that he coughed up; but the more harmless tricklings as the spell ended.

This felt really good. Or maybe that was the quickly impending dehydration, but he felt giddy and light-headed.

@Tsvetok

Tsvetok hadn't been screamed back at before-- at least, not like this. Timir yelled back because it was the right and normal thing to do, but this screaming seemed very aggressive. Not that the Valkhound wasn't also being aggressive-- long had its crest feathers fallen over its face in a ridiculous display of 'dominance.'

"YOU'RE NASTY!!" It screamed back without missing a beat. It stomped a hind leg into the ground just to prove its point with even more noise. "YOU SMELL BAD! YOU'RE RUINING IT!"

Incidentally, Tsvetok stank. It hadn't bathed since... well, it hadn't even gotten wet since it'd been born. A few weeks of grime and guts-smell and Fates-knew-what-else had piled up. But it liked the stink. It stank like itself. Having a little piddle over its chicken legs, erasing the smell even a little bit, was a declaration of outright war.

It tapped into that little spot of chaos in its belly and pulled magic from it. Then, a half-dozen Tsvetoks appeared around Worm. It'd intended something violent, like fire or lightning or whatever, but it supposed (as much as a thing that doesn't think can) that this would do for the sake of intimidation.

The seven Tsvetoks bent their heads and roared at Worm, though its stinking breath was only scented in one direction.

@Worm

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

Vomit

There were thousands of sayings about biting off more than you could chew, but Worm knew none of them, despite how fitting they would've been in this moment. Worm cowed down as the circle of chickens screeched at him, putting his paws over his face, which thankfully helped with the awful smell too.

If he wanted to get rid of all these nasty, screaming strangers, he'd need to stay conscious. While the adrenaline was doing a fantastic job at doing that, some nagging survival instinct told him that if he tried to spew up more water, he'd look just like the withered-up, dry grass surrounding the pair of them, or a small army of them with that many chickens.

And it did work. Worm felt full of water, despite how dry the surroundings were. A little too full, actually. When he tried to move, he could hear the water sloshing around his bloated stomach. Worm tried to rise to cast another spell, but when he got to his feet, the feeling was.. off.

Water certainly came retching up. Only this time it was in the form of actual vomit. Water, bile, the meagre remains of his breakfast, all hurled up in front of this circle of stranger (singular).

Worm wobbled and swayed into one of the images, seemingly by accident rather than with intent. His head throbbed, and the adrenaline was doing nothing to help him any more.

"No.. you." Worm slurred the highest of comebacks. Teetering as he staggered in random directions before toppling and planting face down in the soggy grass and mud.

@Tsvetok

Seven Tsvetoks reared their heads up in a truly universal gesture of cringing. It'd never quite been at a loss before, enough that when Worm stumbled into one mirror image, it and the other five faded to nothingness.

A small, smooth little pea of a brain began trying to process what it just witnessed. Worm was still shouting back, even post-vomit. It watched him plop over onto the grass. And... well, it took advantage.

Tsvetok wanted its fire back, after all.

Bile rose again, white and orange in the creature's chest-- but it never came out. Tsvetok was more than accustomed to hot temperatures, but even that was a lot for it to take. It gulped down the wretched lava-fluid and scraped a hind-claw over the dirt, uncomfortable.

It swung its head back to Worm. "GET UP," it demanded, partially because it was uncomfortable with the entire display. Maybe that was the point of vomiting and passing out? It sure didn't know enough about that sort of thing to know if it was voluntary or not.

@Worm

Worm certainly felt a little better after spewing up all that excess water. And the soggy ground felt decently cool against his aching head, even if it did cake his face in a mask of mud and wet ash. What was it shouting now?

Get up? Right, he should do that and not drown in his own vomit and mud.

It's on weak legs that Worm stood; he staggered first to the left, then a little to the right before finally coming to a standstill. His legs splayed out widely under him in an attempt to steady himself. He was still upset at this stranger, though it was beginning to get harder to keep that fire burning as his head swam.

"Hold on.." Worm slurred as he blinked blearily at the floor. "I'm almost better." He continued, perhaps in an attempt to comfort himself, opposed to this stranger.

Covered in a thick layer of muck, drool, bile and ash, Worm wobbled in front of the chicken-stranger. His eyes squinted at different levels to keep some of the thick mixture from slipping into his eyes. He didn't look 'almost better at all'.

@Tsvetok

Tsvetok was definitely... uncomfortable. Not that it knew what that word meant.

Its crest had flipped back away from its face for just a moment as it forgot to stay INTIMIDATING and DOMINANT. It watched Worm wobble up, its feathers flat against its neck. He was, uh, hmm. It was probably a good thing Tsvetok didn't have particularly visible eyes, because it was glancing between a puke-covered Worm and the spot of smoldering grass.

At least Tsvetok knew what it would rather be doing. A new globule of superheated bile was horked up and out of the Valkhound's jaws, and it spat it right back onto the dry grass, watching contentedly as the fire began to yawn into a full flame again.

Just as all things were meant to be.

@Worm

Worm blinked blearily at the fiery spit on the floor. In his woozy state, for a good few seconds, he seemed to forget to be upset about what the nasty stranger had just done. Staring into the smouldering mess, he blinked one eye after the other. It was pleasantly warm against the grossness on his face, but as the smoke began drying out his eyes, he snapped to.

"NO!" Worm screamed at the stranger, seeing as that was the only language it understood; loud. It hadn't waited at all for Worm to feel better and that wasn't fair.

"THAT'S NOT FAIR! I'M NOT FEELING VERY WELL!" The height of playground drama was unfolding here. Absolutely gripping arguments.

This time, when Worm put out the water, it wasn't nearly as elegant; he was certain he caught glimpses of nastiness from his mouth coming up with the water as it extinguished the flames that were starting to catch. His head throbbed, making him groan, but at least the adrenaline was coming back. Hopefully.

"Ugh." Worm swayed a little more, but at least all the water re-exiting his body seemed to be doing the trick.

@Tsvetok