You enter a room in the Caverns full of massive, dangling pillars of silk. Upon further inspection, they are cocoons; in the light, you can see various giant caterpillars and moths in various stages of transformation. These vulnerable creatures could be valuable, but you’re not sure what dangers they may pose if disturbed. What do you do?

Monaco entered the next chamber on soft, booted feet, little more than a whisper as he assessed the occupants from just inside the threshold. They had grown since he had last been here. The gloomstalker colony swelling to nearly three times its size.

Not that he hadn’t expected it.

Plants, creatures, coursers, humans, they all followed the same basic principles. He’d known when he discovered this cavern nearly a year ago that they would grow and thrive if left to their devices. A hoard did not set up their nesting grounds in such a large space if they did not intend to fill it. Like humans and their villages. Coursers and their fields. Even fungi and their cracks and caves. There was always room to grow, should their species require such.

But this growth was a little more than Monaco had expected. It would restrict his path forward. The way the silk spread from wall to wall made it so that the cave was entirely connected by thin, gossamer threads.

So. How would he harvest?

That was, after all, his intention here today. Monaco did not often range the halls beyond the surface world without some intention of harvest or discovery. Even if the only thing he harvested in a day were the sights.

But this he could do… he would just have to find the right-

“Monaco?” The buckskin stilled, shoulders deflating at he heard the familiar voice, choking down his groan as he turned to regard the rangy man by the door. “Hey, yeah man it is you!” Tamsin’s voice grew louder, and Monaco hissed, wrapping a hand behind Tamsin’s neck, so he could drag him to close the distance quickly, pressing his other hand to cover the younger man’s mouth.

Tamsin’s eyes widened, both at Monaco’s action and at the way the fibres coating the room shivered around them, cocoons shaking, wings fluttering.

“Do you ever speak below a yell, kid?” Monaco whispered, voice harsh and whip-quick.

Tamsin’s eyes fell back to Monaco and the ranger felt the smile curve under his palm. Tamsin shrugged, apology in his gaze, but no denial of the comment or true remorse. Yeah, it was just how he was.

Shaking his head, Monaco stepped away, putting distance between them once more. Tamsin shook their head, layers of their mullet shaking back into disorder, just a different kind than the one caused the Monaco’s hands.

“So…. Whatcha doing?” Tamsin asked, trying to whisper.

“Working,” Monaco grunted, turning back to the cavern, eyes searching for the best place to pick through.

He could almost hear the roll of Tamsin’s eyes. “Yeah, I mean, you’re always workin’. But like, how.”

Monaco raised his eyes to the ceiling, sending up a prayer to the surface. After a beat, Tamsin still breathed too loudly behind him. His prayer unanswered.

Grimacing, Monaco shook his head, cursing under his breath, and began to show Tamsin how to harvest the gloomstalker’s caverns.