"This shemesh has been very good for the nukaps," Ycthuthrheth explains as it follows a black tsabhua, a pink tsabhua, and a yellow wingless aerobic tark'ee further into the fungal swamps. "In fact, it's been too good. Leave them be, and they might wreak havoc on the ecosystem."

Citria tilts her head at Ycthuthrheth. "Wouldn't flowering hounds typically get them?"

"Nomads hunted them down. A uh, 'preemtive protection' of their livestock if you will," sighed Tezcatlipoca, claw quoting at the words "preemptive protection."

"It is an absolute travesty that nature puts everyone at odds with each other," says Corazon, overplaying his gestures and speaking as if he's performing on stage. Without a microphone. "Alas, that exact conflict is what drives us to our betterment. Not just as a species, but as individuals as well. This reminds me of-"

Familiar with Corazon's verbosity, Citria interrupts him. "Tone it down a bit. You'll scare the prey."

Corazon closes his mouth and turns his head to the other side. He mutters, "sorry."

The group goes further into the fungal forest. The moist moss and mud squelches under their feet with every step. A stagnant, pungent smell emanates from the opaque water. Rays of sunshine glitter through small spots in the dense canopy. The sunny spots would have been a wonderful place to dry off after wading in the murky water if it hadn't been for the heat and the suffocating humidity. Luckily, the sounds of their stepping and splashing was obscured by the cacophonous cries and chirps of local fauna trying to find a mate. And then, ahead of them, resting underneath a short but wide brimmed giant mushroom, is a group of nukaps.

Upon spotting this, the group hides. "How should we go about this?" whispers Ycthuthrheth.

"Did you not have a plan before coming here?" questions Tezcatlipoca in a stern whisper.

"Well uh… Well, I'm not familiar with hunting," stutters Ycthuthrheth in its slightly robotic voice, "But it, it doesn't seem like something that, uh, that could exactly be planned."

"Th-they're all resting and unaware," states Corazon, first at his normal volume, then quieting down when he remembers of the situation at hand. "Cant we just… swoop in and take down a few of them?"

"No. There are too many. And they will fight back. Justifiably so," responds Citria. She then turns to Ycthuthrheth. "How good are you at mimicking sounds?"

Ycthuthrheth moves its floating hand to scratch its imaginary chin, "I, as the individual piloting this drone, very bad. But I can play sound clips so long as they exist in the database. I'll just have to check...Ah, found quite a few that should work."

"Are you just going to scare them away? Isn't that the opposite of what we want?" questions Corazon.

"If they are already running, they will be less likely to attack," responds Citria.

Tezcatlipoca adds to her strategy. "Better yet, lay traps where they will be running. Forward are the traps. Back is the scary sound. Citria, you're a big gal so you got right flank. Us small guys get the left flank. They will disperse. Our job is to try and push them toward the traps. Or maybe snag a few as they try to flee."

Citria nods to the plan. "I can't think of anything better myself."

Ycthuthrheth gives two thumbs up. "I at least know I can do my part."

Corazon isn't ecstatic about it, but everyone else seems to agree with it. "I'm not all that confident about this… but let's go."

The traps are set and the plan goes into motion.