“What’s a clover?”
Ibex sighed as his noontide trek was interrupted. Craning his neck, he angled a level gaze at Socorro. He’d been scouring the cove areas he was familiar with, and didn’t need his search interrupted.
Ibex stepped around the thorny cover of a hyacinth bush. “A clover is a type of plant that has historically been associated with luck and the ability to be eaten in a pinch. Plenty of animals feed off it when there’s nothing else around.” He paused, realizing that the golden kiji probably wouldn’t be satisfied with that explanation. “It also has uses as a regent.”
“Oooh.” Soco’s ears perked up at this. “Someone making a potion? Or paying debts to Krawft?”
Ibex headed that train of thought off before Socorro could say something off color. “ I’m sure you, bland as toothpaste, would love to hear some dirt. But no.” He ignored Soco’s yip of objection, nosing around the roots of the great hyacinth. “I need it for slime.”
Socorro paused. “... slime.”
It was so… mundane. Kijikaiaku and other magical creatures often employed slimes to travel the land, picking up anything and everything in their viscous bodies to bring back to their masters. It was a fast, cheap way to gather materials and items to sell.
Honestly, everybody worth their himalayan salt already had a slime. Ibex was almost absurdly behind the curve.
“Slime, goo, mucus from failed experiments- ack no!” Ibex yowled when his snarky reverie was interrupted. On the other side of the bush a goat was making quick work of the carpet of green under the thorns.
“My clover! Spit it out, you little thief!” The goat however, found no kinship with the caprine kiji, quickly assuming a defensive stance over its meal. Ibex lowered his head, ready to charge.
Soco blinked at the two squaring up. “You’re really gonna fight a goat.”
Ibex growled, baring yellowed teeth. “Not fight, I’m gonna kick this bitch’s ass! Creatures of man aren’t even supposed to be out this far!”
Soco giggled at that. “It’s a girl goat?”
“Are you blind?! There’s clearly udde-” The fruity kiji was cut off again as the goat gained the advantage, charging without warning. He dodged out of the way, but out of his desire to avoid the last few patches of clover he failed the landing, crumpling after landing on a back paw wrong. Socorro stood well off to the side as the goat nailed him in the chest multiple times. Eventually the goat got bored of the onslaught, and now that her snack spot was intruded upon, she decided there were greener pastures outside the hyacinth bushes.
Soco sidled next to the prone kiji, leaning in as his groans quieted down. Ibex was bruised, battered, and burying his face in one of the last few whole patches of greenery.
“... so, was it worth it?”
Ibex groaned again. “Need slime.”
Soco tried to keep the grin out of their voice. “And you lost to that bitch.”
“Shut up.” Ibex tenderly got to his feet. “At least there’s something left to harvest.”
“Unlike your dignity.” That time the golden kiji was the one getting headbutted in the ribs.