((The night was so dark that the exploration team had been struggling to get through the brush – slapping themselves in the faces with ferns and stumbling around in the pitch-black. You couldn't have told the tsabhua from the kukuri, their forms all-black down to only their voices and blinking eyes. All until a bright light had filtered through the distance.

"This way," March Hare had breathed, using the subtle light illuminating a fern to lead on Skritch, the runt tsabhua captain. Through the dim light, they narrowly pushed their way through the overgrown jungle and into the bandlands, where the mushroom forest evened out and the ground became hard as stone.

Ahead, a gaping chasm opened in the hard, dry landscape. The tall, crooked mushroom trees crowded heavily around the glowing crevice, their long white-striped roots descending into it. Skritch saw a flickering shadow and hid, the silhuette of a giant appearing on the clay ridge behind them. Then, laughter sounded--there was conversation below, and the figure was joined by another, smaller one, and their two children. March Hare breathed in, inhaling the scent of meat and fungi roasting over a fire somewhere deep within the ravine.))

"The city of lights," Skritch resided from memory. "Oh, it's beautiful," smiled March Hare, her heterochromatic eyes shining in the darkness. She grabbed her lopped ears and tied them behind her head in a neat knot, readying herself for action. In a day and a half, they'd pushed through the deepest brush of L'Hatzif's mushroom forests, only to find more questions – Was the city built out of a stem vent, or perhaps the decayed trunk of an ancient tree? The texture reminded one of the later, but the warm breeze felt more alike the former.

"We just have to find a way down, and then we'll rob 'em blind," Skritch rubbed his fingers together without any sense of irony in his voice. "Haha, I love the way you think! That's a joke, right?" March Hare bounded playfully after him, her fluffy fur and bound ears bouncing with each step. "Nope," Skritch stared seriously from his golden eyes into her swirly heterochromatic ones. "I'm not joking at all," he clarified. "You really are such a funny guy, Skritch!" March Hare laughed happily without a care in the world. "So–How do we climb down there?"

Skrith had only barely considered that. Reaching into his cheap rucksack, he pulled out a set of damaged mining harnesses and ropes. "We lower ourselves in?" He offered, but it was clearly more of a question-in-looking-for-support than telling-her-what-the-best-idea-was. March Hare paused, like she almost might frown and disagree. But instead, her face lit up with a huge grin. "Let's do it!" She started clasping the too-small harness loosely around her body, fiddling with straps the best she could and fitting her tail through the wrong hole. Skritch did the same – Except for that last part.

If only they'd thought ahead further, they would've realized that reclining would be much easier than reclimbing the way back up – Which was even worse for someone smuggling goods. Skritch tied the escape rope twice–not so stingy here–around his thought of a tall, sturdy-looking brown morel. Before he turned around, the kukri dove already gave a squee of excitement as she hopped down into the shining valley. Somewhere below, her harness caught her, and she swung to find a foothold on one of the glowing mushroom roots. "Here goes nothing," Skritch said grumpily. "We'll make a nice, stealthy entry!"

Leaning back against his harness, he released his grip slightly to descend, and – The sturdy morel that Skritch had tied the escape rope around crumbled into pieces as easily if a giant figure was pinching it into parts for a big pizza. "Oh no!" March Hare's eyes shot open. The tightness of their lines both dropped, sending the tsabhua and the kukuri tumbling down – Off of the decaying wood of the ravine itself, off of the luminescent mushrooms, and finally – onto the tops of transparent domes.

An aerobic tark'ee leaving their home with a watering can looked up at the two splatted figures on the glass and let out a loud, goat-like scream before running in the opposite direction. "There goes our stealthy entry," Skritch sighed, scratching his head. March Hare peeled herself from the glass dome like a 2D sticker, then thumped herself on the tail back into a 3D figure. "Well, maybe they didn't hear it?" She offered generously. A crowd of L'Hatzari had gathered, eyeing the strangers who had fallen from the heavens above and their strange apparel.

"Hurry – This way!" A grey belemoid grabbed Skritch with a pair of claws, pulling him off towards the alleyways. "March!" He called, desperately trying to catch the kukuri's attention onto his kidnapping. Instead, she shot a glance back over her shoulder at her audience and gave them a big smile and a wave. "Toodles!" She called, before darting after the mysterious figure who had wrenched Skritch off into a dark fissure in the ravine wall. "Who are you?" Skritch called, furious to be dragged away. March Hare's fluffy darkness plugged the light from the outside, turning the cave dark except for the small specks of luminescence from the mushrooms within.

"The belemoid that just saved your ass!" She insisted, "Bismuth! But you can call me Bismuth." As she slumped, Skritch's eyes gradually focused on the darkness until he realized that furniture was scattered about. An old round bed slunched in a corner, toys and items stashed messily under it. Not just that but–March Hare winced as she realized that the cave her face was pressed against was merely a ceiling-high stack of cargo. A piece fell, hitting her on the nose and rattling off onto the floor with a dull, suspicious cling. "A fork?" Skritch snatched up the item, eyeing it. "DPIP has forbidden–"

Bismuth let out a loud, shushing sound. "And you're not with DPIP, right?" She affirmed swiftly, "You're on the Rebel side, so listen to me. You can't go around falling into cities like that." March Hare giggled as she saw Skritch, who was complaining about the fork, stealthily tuck it into the fold of his climbing harness. Well, if Bismuth profited from the trade of illegal substances, he would too. Just thinking about all of the money made him eye the room, licking his lips. "Well, I'm sorry Bismuth - But we didn't mean to, really!" March Hare pointed out, "Just give up some directions and I'll be out of your… Hare in no time!" She winked.

Bismuth gave an exasperated groan and plopped down onto the floor, trying to think. Skritch snuck behind her, helping himself to a few quick grabs from her piles of illicit cargo. "Whatever," Bismuth decided at last, turning so quickly that Skritch rushed to hide a spiral bouncy-ball in his own mouth. "Just stay here tonight – Until the confusion dies down and the enforcers will stop looking for you. Then be gone in the morning." March Hare nodded eagerly, laying down against a dusty old mat quite like how a giant pyrenees might.

Bismuth had watched the two warily until she shut her eyes too long, and drifted asleep on her old bed. Skritch grabbed his old rucksack and began stealthily filling it with small items, valuable ones, anything he could fit that he could get his hands on. March Hare opened one swirling purple heterochromatic eye. "Skritch!" She gasped, "Y-You can't, that's stealing." The white tsabhua used one of his extra arms to silence her with a finger on her lips. "We leave now," he instructed, and before giving March Hare time to think, stalked out. She gave a frantic glance back at the sleeping belemoid. "I'm sorry," she breathed, before following him.