“That line of thinking leads to madness.”
“Call me crazy, but I’d rather not gamble.”
She’s n[o]t a gambling lady.
But if she were, I w[o]uldn’t bet against her.
(Most of the time.)
“So? What’s the plan?”
“We wait? At least a little while.”
“Sure.” She gave the bulldog a pat on the head. “Give Bentley a chance to rest. You can feed Atlas.”
Fair enough. Time to roll some hit dice and all that jazz!
“Pretty narrow window of time,” I added. “Bitch’s effects on the dogs don’t last that long. Figure twenty minutes, and we took at least fifteen to get here…”
Bentley’s currently not going to shrink without Rachel actively doing so, remember?
Unless that wore off at some point?
“But she gave them more juice than usual. I’d say roughly ten minutes before he’s too small to carry me,” Tattletale said.
Looks like either it did, or Lisa forgot too.
“Ten minutes.”
We settled into a position behind cover, and I began drawing bugs to me to feed Atlas. I wasn’t positive about his diet, and Grue had said that he’d given Atlas a more human digestive system, which left me uncertain.
Um.
Mushroom sandwich?
That said, Atlas was made of bugs, I figured he required the nutrients they provided on a sheer logical level, like how humans would generally get most of the nutrients they needed by eating other humans, if they had to.
That makes way too much sense.
That, and I’d pointed out to the rest of the group how bugs were something we could eat as humans, so his digestive tract could probably manage them.
…this keeps making way too much sense.
But hey, if there’s anything Taylor can get plenty of without issue, it’s bugs.
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