A Clean Whack

Rule one of the inner gardens: don’t touch the tar bush. All plants can be persuaded to alter their chemical responses for a price— the mineral they’re looking for, the fungus they want to work with (or beat up), the right flavor of energy. All but the tar bush. The tar bush is undomesticated and proud; its sap will bind the chemicals of any bugger it touches. Doesn’t matter if it hurts, and it certainly won’t change its ways for a parasitic meat pile. Of course, Habelkef has to touch it. Milk it, more like. This molecular binding agent voids the need for most manufacturing equipment, and is the reason the Mythtuf have secured allies in the sky archipelagos so early in their generation. To the sky, Habelkef includes a rain map, partially out of courtesy to the tar bushes, but mostly for himself, since they’re less violent when properly watered.