My bichette's countryside house has a bog nearby where we went bugchasing as kids. I feel like it needs an offering or two for all we've received — from it, and in general. The Quagmire Consortium would be pleased (it if actually exists, that is).
However I couldn't withstand the wormblet. Figured our minds need a place to be as we get stuck in day-to-day lives. We hope we can find an artificer willing to go through the complex atmosphere invocation procedure to resupply the wormblet's worth of nutrients for some more years, when the time comes.
Speaking of it, I was looking up to the Dépanneur's clock, but I was told it better be left unsold. Reasons unclear. An acknowledged mystic could say the cadence of its ticks have come into resonance with the place so strong they became one.
Well, you can't buy time anyway. Even if one could, I wouldn't afford it. Besides that, I was hazy and unable to tell if I left my porte-monnaie home, had to scrape some rounders up from the shelves as I went. Luckily they support the new-fangled L-System.
In spite of that, I had a great time in Dépanneur Nocturne. We chatted with the owner quite a bit. We like the same cooking show on the radio.
Looking forward to coming there again with my bichette. Maybe they shouldn't open the street after all — I won't like to see the place populated.