A night passed in Pegasus, unusually chilly and damp. The darkness lingered into late morning, and a fog clung to the meadow through the afternoon. Most of the cave returned to daylight by midday, but one patch of forest remained dark, and there was something there that hadn't been there just the day before. It had appeared overnight: an overgrown walkway of worn and broken stones, framed by weathered fences half fallen-down, spilling out into the meadow from the forest itself. Eerily flickering lanterns stood at its mouth.

The path led into the darkened wood, and the forest here was... different.

Spiderwebs, glistening with mist, clung to every branch and bush. Small and squeaking bats fluttered through the trees, many of which had lost their leaves and instead clawed black and bare at the fog above. Other trees were cloaked in deep autumnal colors, and the leaves that had fallen skittered with whispering hisses across the path.

Now and again a lantern lit the way, as if to ask: who would be brave enough to venture down it?

*

[Event] Doctor Fun's Funhouse of Fun has begun! All characters are welcome to join. Anyone attempting violence will be ejected, carried by a mysterious and powerful 'hand' out into the meadows of Pegasus, though they may rejoin the event again.

Blasty had been stuck incubating in his chrysalis for moons since his body and mind could scarcely recover from the trauma he endured upon his first attempt at wakening. He had only been wandering for a cycle, and now found that besides the daily mental struggle of doing anything at all, there was also a physical struggle for him to get things done. It was honestly no wonder his brother had gone so avidly for the rocks—the rocks didn't move. Leftover carcasses are not enough sustenance to support the growth of any cat, even one as small and misshapen as Blasty. But until now, that was all he had.

Disturbing as all that was, this funhouse looked very "fun". It had been cycles since this particular cat has seen anything close to "fun". Last time he and Rockeater had wandered through this room, it had been part of the insane and asinine quest to find more rocks to eat. Blasty hadn't had a huge chance to look around at the time, but he was sure hadn't seen this before.

He trodded at down the ominous path with intrepid pawsteps, even though some trepidation might've been deserved. The brave fool lined himself up to by the funhouse's first guest.

It has taken this mustached bird-thing a long time to wander itself out of Cassiopeia. To be honest, I'm still not entirely sure how to write it. It has grown, in numerous ways, since its initial hatching. It quickly left the watch of its creator, Mr. Mechanic, with open ire in the leaving. It grew up with a sort of bitterness towards the fact that it was born. Despite this, its shell hardened, its leg muscles stiffened, and eventually it was able to troddle out of nest so to speak.

And to here is where it troddled.

Some creatures in their third cycle had much more growing to do, but not Isosceles. This was about it for the creature. Perhaps the perks of the slew of bug DNA in its genetic blueprint—growing happened quickly. In another cycle, it might have incurred a little more of puberty's wrath by filling out some more. That was only if it could manage to supply the nutrients for such growth, which given how difficult it was for the creature to even move let alone "hunt", further expansion would have been unlikely.

All this to say, it was ripe for the mutating.

And where better to find back alley professional surgeons than the Saul Goodman of mutations himself—Doctor Fun! A man Isosceles didn't know existed yet. But to his house, it would surely arrive. And down the lantern lit path it would surely trundle, fall over every few seconds, right itself, and then trundle down further again. Looking around in great suspicion at its surroundings, and yet wholeheartedly incapable of admitting defeat in the face of the overwhelming spookiness.

I love bagels. BREAKING NEWS: doggy wanders into weird man's house, more at 11.

Mercutio had been doing screw-all these past months. What a beautiful, enviable life for a valkhound—no responsibilities, no Vargasian expectations, no weird Andrew Tate alpha male-esque hierarchies. Merc probably would've been able to navigate that path had they flung themself into it, but that would have been such a snooze fest. They didn't even know what they were missing out on.

Pegasus was a natural place for a fast flier to be. Lots of open air and uninterrupted wind currents to glide through. She was here pretty often, and she knew for a fact that this weirdly dark patch of forest on the meadow's edge had not been there the day prior.

Thoroughly weirded out and curious as any puppy is wont to be, Mercutio decided to gussy up his britches or whatever and follow the road into darkness. There was a brief moment of hesitation in the first step, but a strong faith in his powerful nose and agile reflexes convinced Mercutio to tread forth.

If you discounted the lingering ominousness of the scene, the whole area was kind of pretty actually. The fallen orange blanket of leaves on the ground and the fog cover kind of added a nice ambience to the darkened woods. But man, those spider webs were creepy. And the whistling, hissing noises Mercutio couldn't place. That was very scary.

Relic wasn't loving how familiar this all seemed.

The trees were like talons, beckoning her to tread further into the murky air… Her winter coat prickled. Bit chilly. Not much else to it. Stop looking.

Despite her natural apprehension, she'd play along with whatever this was. It's the spooky season, after all.

With her, there were four. Being closer to Mercutio in speed than the other two, she settled behind the dawgggy, but she addressed the other two with a nod and a "Sup." as she brushed past.

Relic's attention was split between the poor paving of the path ahead, and watching the fog for any shadows that lurched into view.

In the shadows cast by the dark gnarled trees, a pair of lenses caught the lantern light as Thal slid into place amidst the growing crowd, its supernaturally shadowed face lending to the spooky aura (as did Relic's pumpkin'd head.) The spookometre was off the freaking charts right now.

Being a fellow creature of the night, Thalassa was unphased by the fog. She'd swam in rivers with less visibility, and she'd handled herself fine.

She did not introduce herself, or say anything at all. It took its spot in front of Relic, behind Mercutio, exacerbating the split between those who could walk well and those who couldn't.

Eleven sported a new, sexy panda stripe of milk white, painted clumsily across the length of their waist and stomach. If constantly glowing neon orange made stealth difficult, this would make the problem leagues worse. But hey, they had added a couple new stones to the growing stash of bullshit they wouldn't be able to touch in seven hundred cycles, until Vargas got off their ass and they had permission to use them.

It'd take even longer, still, since it was planning on saving what little good favour it had to earn a name.

Dvalinn towered over even the tallest gathered here, so it chose to stick near the back, make sure the odd little hybrids didn't stumble into the gray void.

"What's going on?" It glanced toward both Blastocyst and Isosceles, but it wasn't expecting much of an answer. It was the only member of the Forge here, for the moment, and if it didn't know, the chances of someone else having information it didn't were slim.

@Blastocyst @Isosceles (interaction)

Hidden away amongst the fog and the dark a freak accident of a chrysalis falls from the general direction of the sky, its origin indeterminate. It bodies a patch of fence before exploding on the edge of the walkway, scaring off some of the surrounding bats. Thankfully, Gilligan's first experience in life is the soft grass beside the path, even if the second experience was hard wood afterwards. Their gangly legs struggle to get up and take their first steps over the walkway that now has their own stones blending in as best they could in. Their motor muscles were forever calibrated to stony pathways from this point on.

Quite frankly, their nose wasn't equipped to catch scent of other creatures at the moment, but they were quick to catch on to the lanterns pointing the way and hear sounds different from the hissing and the bats squeaks. He was a ways away from the rest of the pack, but he'd eventually catch up if he didn't get distracted.

Background by Kelly Dooley

The sound of flat scales heaving across the cobbled path began to emanate from somewhere behind the group now, the hulking body of a now teenage Crypt looming slowly into view of the stragglers, another jack-o-lantern face to join the three, suspiciously pumpkin themed gembound who'd already began to congregate on this hallowed eve.

He resembled something of a lantern himself, if thicker, the light of his insides bulging against too-thin skin. He shambled, using his forearms to help pull himself along faster, though it was all a little awkward.

He fit right in with the foal, the munchkin cat, the green one and the glowing dog-thing, the last of which eyeing him with an expression he couldn't possibly read.

A tiny, dull mammal trickled into the fray, tail flagging proudly upwards. Whatever was happening in the darkest corners of Pegasus, they wanted to find out - and to be frank, they were loving the atmosphere here. It took the barest vestige of dignity not to dance through the shifting fog, their excitement manifest at the barest bounce in their step.

There were plenty of largefriends to attach themselves to, the largest of which were hovering near the back. While they enjoyed the prospect of being the first to discover whatever lay at this path's end, they valued their personal safety above curiousity - and besides, look at that tiny bald thing. Its like if Snicker got naked (the spookiest thought of all…)

"Hellooo…" Their purple eyes washed over the group, though pausing at the two Valkhounds, and settling on Blastocyst for reasons outlined in the previous pawful of sentences.