I prepared my hooved servant and sent her down along with a crown of bugs and an entourage of rodents. This time I ignored the various mushrooms and other things which grew along the inside of the cave. Making a beeline for the deepest reaches, my tiny scouts picked up very little save for the occasional drip of water.

That was until they reached the wall of stone I had found before, there I once more heard banging, along with voices. Though I could make out more than I had the last time, it still wasn't quite enough to really pick out any words. Or at least that had been my first thought, but I quickly realized that it wasn't that I couldn't hear them, but rather I couldn't understand them.

Whatever language they were speaking was very guttural, and consisted mostly of growls as well as the odd yip. It almost sounded like a pack of wild dogs talking to another and though I couldn't be sure if they were intelligent it wasn't a leap to assume as much. After all, they were probably the source of the clanging, which meant that they were mining for something directly underneath me.

That thought unnerved me, and something about that sparked some instinct within me which made me rather angry. They could tunnel up beneath me and though I could detect their approach through my roots, I wouldn't be able to impede them. I had a few insects who could dig fairly well but I doubted a handful of beetles would really be able to stop them.

Just imagining a bunch of angry dogs popping up into my forest made my metaphorical blood boil.

Wait, what am I thinking? My forest? I can barely control one tenth of the place. I thought to myself, anger subsiding. Think Xathrid, they don't even know you exist. Why would they attack you? Wait, Xathrid, did I really just think that?

I tried to ruminate on my old name only to find that it eluded my mental grasp no matter how hard I searched. Though irritating, it was a bit hard to mourn something you had forgotten you even had in the first place. Besides, if I was being honest with myself, Xathrid, The Blackblooded fit me far more than whatever human name I had before.

With that minor episode behind me, I focused on the wall of stone and tried to find some way through it. Like the entrance to the cave itself, it wasn't a normal barrier, but rather the ceiling had collapsed at some point. Meaning this little pile could be cleared, if I had something stronger than an infant who lacked opposable thumbs.

Fi. I cursed.

Shifting my focus, I tried to reach out with my roots in an attempt to perhaps clear the debris or hear inside. Though I felt as though it was possible, pushing myself to grow like that absorbed a massive amount of energy. So much so that I stopped almost as quickly as I started, and even then I had already lost half my reserves.

Note to self. Don't do that again. I thought to myself.

I lingered at the collapsed section of the cave and decided to turn back, though not before removing a single rock. It wasn't much, but it made me feel like the entire trip hadn't been a complete and utter waste of my time. Thankfully I found something much more intriguing a few minutes later when I neared the entrance.

Though not new, the mushrooms I saw on my first trek now felt familiar to me in a way that they hadn't before. This time I knew the names of the two most prominent varieties, namely the heart seeker mushrooms and their close nieghbors, paupers choice. The heart seekers were the ones which grabbed my attention more, as they were the arrow headed ones I had seen earlier.

The first was poisonous, immensely so, though it really only became dangerous when stepped on. Or, it could be crushed, and used as a paste which could add an extra sting to any weapon, even a hammer. As the active ingredient would be absorbed by the opponent’s skin after impact, where it would begin attacking the muscles. This would cause immense pain in the target, and would eventually lead to the creature’s heart stopping dead in its tracks.

Morbid. I thought to myself. Though the name is certainly fitting.

Glancing to the larger, more bulbous mushrooms I was able to recall that they were commonly referred to as pauper’s choice. This was due to the fact that they prolifferated quite easily and didn't take much to prepare, but were borderline inedible. It would be akin to chewing on a mouthful of slightly wet dirt with a bit of black clay tossed on top. Regardless of its flavor, I knew that it could be counted on to fill one’s belly for an entire day, though relying on it for every meal was a bad idea.

Not because it was secretly poisonous or something but it simply tasted that awful.

Useful, though I don't think it would make for a very useful trade good. Unless of course I can cook it in such a way as to make it tastier than eating dirt. I ruminated. Unlike the heart seekers which would be immensely useful to me given the fact that it doesn't affect plants, nor the undead.

I plucked one of the arrow headed mushrooms from the patch and inspected it closely. The thing began to curl up the second it was removed, shooting a small cloud of spores not long after. This tiny cloud shimmered slightly in the low light, their tiny green flakes falling to the ground.

Interesting. I remarked. I wonder if that would be enough to take down one of those armored crocodiles I saw or perhaps that six eyed toad I saw earlier.

I decided that was enough messing around for the moment, and chose to go back to hunting and preparing my territory. To that end I dropped the mushroom and extracted my servants, pausing briefly to inspect the collapsed cave entrance. As before it was simply too great an obstacle for my current army to deal with, though I could tell, somehow, that it wouldn't be hard to fix.

Perhaps it was one of the bugs, or maybe the deer, but whichever it was, I could tell that the rocks barring the entrance simply needed to be moved. Unlike the lower passage which would require bracing, and likely some other manner of mining which I knew nothing about. I just needed to find something, or someone strong enough to move the stones which blocked off the entrance.

I skimmed through my knowledge of rituals and quickly realized that magic wasn't going to get me out of this one. Every spell I knew which was capable of remedying this problem required either a dozen other participants or a significant number of ingredients. All I really had were mushrooms, a single deer skull, and whatever plants I could reach within my zone of control.

I could, however, clear the sky for a few hours, force a cloud to rain, or summon a small swarm of insects. That last one felt almost silly considering just how many of the things I had managed to get under my control at this point. I didn't need to waste my magic doing that when I could just leave the rotting remains of a dead fox out and accomplish the same thing.

Either way, I was once more distracting myself with idle considerations and I turned my attention back to what was important. Namely getting some manner of larger creature on my side, like the toad or crocodile, though I swiftly ruled out the frog. It was almost as intelligent as a deer I recalled, and was also fairly useless, save for its incredibly acute hearing.

I wonder if I could make friends with the thing. Some of them do speak the deer tongue. I thought to myself, only to brush that aside. Maybe another time. That's a project that I will start at a later date. Right now I need some kind of ace in the hole if those wolves turn out to be hostile.

With that in mind I decided to begin constructing more traps, and spend some time hunting any creature I could get my hands on. To that end I started by making a bunch of snare traps using the fibre I was able to extract from a vine using a sharp rock. It took a bit of doing, but I was happy with the result as it didn't outright kill or maim the target, unlike the pits I’d made.

With that particularly nasty memory in mind, I went around to the various traps and inscribed a warning in nearby trees. Written in deer, it was a fairly simple declaration to avoid the area, and that pit traps were nearby. I knew it wasn't the smartest idea ever, given that it would likely reduce the amount of prey I caught, but it was well worth it.

Saving my already bruised conscience was a trade off I could live with, though I wished I knew another language. I could presumably run into another of these thestral creatures who likely wouldn't know the deer tongue. Either way they should be able to recognize the little skull and crossbones carvings I made, as those were fairly self explanatory.

I also set up a few classic stickunderabigrock traps, but I focused the majority of my time on the snares. By then I had also built up enough insects that I could watch the majority of my territory, including every single one of my traps. This would, in theory, mean I could react to and save any poor sapient fool who wandered into them, and swiftly kill any animal who was suffering.

This did a little to assuage my guilt, I must admit, though I knew it would only disappear completely when I had the chance to make amends. That likely wouldn't happen for some time, if at all, given how far form home my bodyless scout had likely been before they perished. Either way it was becoming slightly easier to ignore those nagging thoughts at the back of my mind so that was good.

This process took another two days, but in the end I had created quite the production line of insects and small mammals. I had a good length of fibrous rope, dozens of traps, and a steadily growing army of small woodland creatures. Heck by the second day I had so many eyes and ears that I began to pick my targets a little more carefully.

Those creatures who were happy and healthy were either released, or ignored by my hunters while the sick and weak were pruned from the pack. This too made me feel a little bit better about my earlier gluttony and potential ecological damage I had done to the grove. It seemed to be working though, as creatures were starting to move back into the area by the end of that second day.

It was then that I took a short nap and dreamt of my next big meal, namely the cragodile which I had been monitoring. The thing was old, from what I could tell, and ornery to boot, fighting with anything larger than a fox which strayed into its swamp. It had reminded me of an aged tiger looking for a worthy fight, but alas, it was the biggest thing in the area.

Not even the other cragodiles could challenge it, and either swiftly escaped the geezer’s jaws or simply avoided it completely. Either way it was alone in its sullen little pool, either sulking, or waiting for prey to wander past it. In fact it kind of reminded me a bit of myself given how little it actually moved, and I couldn't help but pity the beast.

As I returned to the waking world once more I began to wonder once more about the nature of the wooden wolves. They werent natural, that much was obvious but they also werent sapient, given how robotic they had appeared. I stopped that train of thought immediately, reminding myself that I hadn't thought the deer had been a thinking creature either.

It didn't help that the deer had known nothing of these creatures, save for the fact that they were good hunters. Knowledge it had likely picked up during the time it had spent attempting to escape their wooden jaws. This didn't exactly help me, but it did absolve me a little of my gut reaction which was to destroy the things.

You know, they probably don't howl out of a sense of victory, or urge to warn their fellows. I realized. It's probably to intimidate any adversaries in order to better secure their prey.

From what I had been able to gather only the largest of the bunch seemed even somewhat intelligent. Notable for its increased size, and more vibrantly glowing eyes, this beasty moved slightly less robotically than the rest. With that said, it still didn't seem fully sapient, though I couldn't exactly say why I knew that bit of information.

A concern for another time. I thought to myself. Right now I got a big ugly reptile to hunt.

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