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"I sweeeear I almost had my hands on the prize!!" The purpleblood got out of the pile extremely pissed and kicked the hay in front of her. Not giving up. THAT NEEDLE WILL BE MINE!

Some trolls didn't like cloying sweetness, but Gnash found the saccharine taste pleasant and familiar. So, this just meant more tasty cakes for her to eat! Well, after tasting really well made ones, she did have to admit they were kind of more pleasant to eat than her mushy ones. But still, food was food, wasn't it? She licked her lips around her teeth, and continued on her way.

Keionx gave the haystack a cursory fiddle through, seeking lost items... at least, that was how it started. She watched the tempered purple child leave the stack, shaking her head inwardly at their attitude. If it wasn't fun, why do it? She offered to take the broom from the haykeeper's hands and help tidy up. She swept up the scattered hay and re-piled the haystack, fluffing it up with quick movements of her hands. The haykeeper was grateful enough to pass her a grimy ticket. Just barely.

Keionx returned to the pot, her stomach growling as it slowly neared completion. Would it not be the perfect reward for her heroic guarding efforts - a grand meal? This, she felt, should be something that the swamp did - a community pot, to build community and better stretch their resources in a healthful way... perhaps she would bring it up at the next meeting...?

She, of course, added her own donation to the pot - a single tarnip. It wasn't a good tarnip, but it wasn't disgusting, at least, so it added to the vitality of the dish.

Yes. She had to bring this up in Salamire...

Psykgi was forced to return to the mooncakes stand because apparently the ratio of carbohydrate to protein to sugar and oil was exactly what the swarm needed at this time. Ma'am, usually relatively polite for a swarm of cockroaches, practically clamored for more... more more more!

Unfortunately the next transport out was not for a while yet, and she still hadn't found Leeroi (whether that was a good or bad thing, with the mood she was in, Psy didn't know).

So... fine. She tried to make a few mooncakes again. "Oh my gosh." she said to the shopkeeper, "I'm sooo sorry to bother you so much!"

Apparently she wasn't bothering her... and the resulting things that she cooked were apparently enough to gain forgiveness from the standowner for the previous... infestation.

Rastin figured that circling around the festival wasn't such a bad idea, and shuffled back to the haystacks for another shuffle. Maybe he'd be the one to find the needle? Why was it so important, anyway? Did someone need it to finish a hem or a line in a stitch? Well, whatever the reason, it didn't look like anyone would be finding it for a while.

Once he'd cleaned his sleeves from undercooked mooncake batter, Rastin headed off to the community pot again. He still had quite a bit of vegetables to carry about and it had been at least an hour since he'd put his punkin in, so it was probably alright if he tossed a totato into the mix. He couldn't help but smile toward the pot as it simmered. It was looking good, hopefully dinner would be soon!

As the youngster climbed out of the pen, he heard a familiar voice from behind that made his heart leap. Turning, Hazmas stopped and stared - his emotions tangled between excited, relieved and a bit bashful thanks to the compliment. However, his excitement being complimented and seeing her okay overruled all thought and in the blink of an eye, he had Chiara in the biggest, muddiest friend-hug he could muster.

After a moment, his think-pan started working again and the young greenblood realized what he did.

"Ah! Sorry! Sorry!" he piped, jumping back, mortified at how much he'd just muddied her up. He moved to try to wipe off the mud, but he knew his hands were so muddy, it would only make it worse. WHAT A WAY TO SAY HI TO A FRIEND.

"Sorry, I just-. I'm just glad you're okay. Last time I saw you... y-you weren't conscious. At least it didn't look like it." His cheeks flushed under the mud with yellow-green embarrassment. Maybe he should just back out while he was ahead? The idea seemed good to him - until his foot slipped on the slick mud that had dripped from his coat.

The youngster gave a startled yell as he tried to regain his balance, but only succeeded in hopping back into an enormous hay bale. It made him wonder if this could be any worse?