[There's a tiny voice at the back of Fern's mind that is saying maybe he should have second thoughts about this plan, given how unsurprised Varian is. Like he expected this to happen, or something. But he's so worked up and angry and wanting to fight something and get out of the sticky trap that he ignores any and all common sense, yanking the salt cellar away and just dumping all of it on himself.
Bad idea. Nothing happens for several seconds, the goop doesn't dissolve, and Fern briefly thinks this must be just normal table salt. And then the itching starts.
Fern doesn't have skin, so the feeling is a bit different than what a human would feel. But he still feels it, oh boy, does he feel it. Instead of spots on skin that need to get scratched he's feeling a thousand little spots on individual blades of grass. It's super fun, and he's going to start struggling frantically.]
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Bad idea. Nothing happens for several seconds, the goop doesn't dissolve, and Fern briefly thinks this must be just normal table salt. And then the itching starts.
Fern doesn't have skin, so the feeling is a bit different than what a human would feel. But he still feels it, oh boy, does he feel it. Instead of spots on skin that need to get scratched he's feeling a thousand little spots on individual blades of grass. It's super fun, and he's going to start struggling frantically.]
Dude, what was that junk?!