They were back to where they had departed from, but not everything was the same. First, there was the absence of the spirit. Without him, without the presence of the ethereal and joyous being flying in all directions, something seemed to be missing.
Second was her connection to nature. The blessing of the fairies had strengthened that connection, while optimizing the absorption of the energy that in the game was called experience, although that was something they didn't know at that time. What they did know was that they had to get out of there if they wanted to get rid of those mosquitoes.
"This way," the elf announced.
Her sister followed her curiously. It was a detour from the direction they should go, but she knew she had discovered something. However, she hadn't wanted to tell her what.
While they were surrounded by insects that wanted to break through their defenses and suck their blood, they arrived at an area where several curious varieties of plants abounded. They hadn't seen plants like them until then, and it was strange that many of the flowers remained closed. The feline didn't pay them much attention, until one of them moved, opened a flower and swallowed one of the insects.
They were carnivorous plants, whose mouths were up to half a meter in diameter. The biggest ones were capable of trapping some of the largest insects, even bats. However, they weren't big enough to pose a danger to the sisters.
They entered that area of poor soil, in which the plants needed extra nutrients to grow and survive, as the soil wasn't enough. The arrival of insects, which were attracted by the two newcomers, was a delicious delicacy for those plants.
There were many types, shapes and colors. There were those which waited for an insect to get close enough, and then move and trap it. There were those that lured them with promising sweet scents, into a death trap. Some trapped them in something like jaws. Others secreted a sticky substance that prevented them from running away. Others lured their preys into something like a bag, from which it was impossible to escape. There were even those that grew in the water, ready to suck up the victims which were swimming nearby.
Those that grew on the trunks and branches of trees were somewhat curious. By clinging to them, they didn't have to compete for space with the other plants in that excellent insect hunting ground. Besides, wind currents continually brought preys to them.
In return, they gave the tree some of their nutrients, so helping their host grow. Doing so, more space was created for the plants' new shoots, which in turn would feed the tree when they grew. It was a beautiful symbiosis in a way, though the insects wouldn't quite agree.
Soon, the number of small bugs began to decrease, since they were decimated by the seemingly harmless plants. Although, that didn't completely reassure the elf, who was afraid of meeting carnivorous plants large enough to swallow them, as she had seen in the game.
However, those plants didn't exist, at least not in those swamps. It was much more efficient to feed on the continuous flow of insects than on the sporadic and more difficult to catch larger beings, which in that place was a too uncertain food source.
Some would say they were a grotesque sight. Others, that they were beautiful. Perhaps interesting. For them, it was simply a relief that freed them from the constant harassment of insects, now turned into nutrients.
They crossed the area without encountering any danger, apart from the plants that, from time to time, closed their jaws on the lynx's claws.
"Stop playing with the plants," her sister reproached her, although doing something similar had crossed her mind. Well, who didn't want to see a carnivorous plant when it closes?
"It's a shame we can't take some with us to ward against mosquitoes," she had lamented, and ignored the elf's complaints.
Little by little, the density of those plants was decreasing, as the hunting area became less effective and the land richer. So, the competition from other plants was stronger.
However, they were moving away from the swamp, so the density of insects was less of a problem. And a couple of small groups of bats were quickly chased away by Sonic Vibration.
They had found a relatively clear spot, so after setting up several Alarms, she cooked some suspicious centipede skewers. Once prepared, they didn't look too bad.
"It's delicious," praised the feline.
The elf took one of them reluctantly, cut a small piece with a dagger and put it in her mouth, not too convinced.
"Well, it's not bad, if you forget where it comes from..."
"Why? It comes from a delicious giant centipede," her sister replied. She was trying to sound innocent, but was actually scoffing, and earned herself a cold glare.
In the end, the elf couldn't completely overcome her prejudices, and only got to eat a little more, so the feline devoured her share too.
"I'm looking forward to trying the bats," she said when she finished, which almost left her without dessert. It isn't good to laugh too much at the chef.
Without a doubt, it would have been a great loss to the feline, for the honey the elves had given them was delicious. They had harvested it from huge hives built on the outskirts of the village, which were inhabited by hundreds of bees the size of a rugby ball.
These large insects have a certain level of intelligence, so they allow the elves to collect a part of the honey in exchange for the protection they provide, protection that is partly mutual, since attacking a village with that type of hives can cause the bees' wrath.
She used Vegetable Home to set up the castle-shaped tent inside. Although it only lasted for three hours at her affinity level, it had the advantage that it didn't disappear when the time limit was reached, as was the case with similar spells, but that the roots were gradually retracting.
That gave them time for the lynx to awaken the elf who, sleepily, invoked the protection of the plants again, at the same time that she promised herself to level up the spell, as Gjaki used to do.
Perhaps, there were those who would think that it wasn't critical, but only because they hadn't had to wake up after only three hours of sleep, nor do they had the problem of falling sleep again. Of course, it wouldn't happen if you were a feline capable of falling asleep in seconds, and doing so with one eye open.