They are a small people, really, these Heatures, with sturdy wide torsos and truncated legs that resemble small stout trees. Most of their time is spent alternating between food gathering and wool gathering of the humorous kind. Their laughter is heard often in the forest and is reassuring to travelers, although not many travelers brave the forests these days. This is because the Heatures, while being devastating warriors in their own right, can’t be everywhere, and because they are so happily boisterous, it is easy for the Fargs to know exactly where they aren’t. The Fargs, as has been well documented, take their pleasure from females, travelers mostly, of the human kind. Many an unwary party loses all of their females to a fate only made worse by Farg romantic poetry. It must be said that some of the females reunited with their human community say that they enjoyed their captivity, but no study has been attempted in order to discern how they felt about their lives before capture. The Fargs, being dirt eaters, are no match for the Heatures and it usually takes several hundred Fargs to kill one Heature. Needless to say, travelers love to hear Heatures nearby. No one really knows how the Heatures feel about humans, although is has been reported many times that when in close proximity, the Heatures will laugh while holding their noses with one hand and their genitals with the other.
The Heatures of Crabit
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Excellent Freudian funk
A bit like Turning Japanese
By the Vapors
This article touched me deeply (I won’t say where). I won’t be completely satisfied until I hear some Farg romantic poetry.