Somewhere in the bayou outside Milieux, Wednesday evening [NFB]
The liquornimals had a problem. Their town, their lovely little hideaway from the ever expanding population of humanity, had been overrun with the things. One had to only listen to the Malt Rats' reports of their encounters to know that this was a problem.
And so they decided to do something about it.
The Ouzo Penguin called the meeting of the Liquornimal council to order.
[ooc: Locked to, er, me and NFB, yo.]
And so they decided to do something about it.
The Ouzo Penguin called the meeting of the Liquornimal council to order.
[ooc: Locked to, er, me and NFB, yo.]