“The Land of Mists?” Chomper muttered, cupping his claws together tightly. “My dad told me that sharpteeth and flateeth have both taken turns trying to live there over the years, but no settlement has ever lasted for long… Uh… m-maybe this illness really isn’t the same thing Grandpa Longneck had,” he said cautiously. There were more than just stories about failed settlements in the Land of Mists. He remembered hearing snatches of ghost stories near sharptooth story circles about strange unseen things that lived there in the water, and a quality in the soil that did things to folks when they set foot on it. Wether those were just stories or if they had any truth to him, Chomper didn’t want to find out.
“I mean, you said that only Grandpa got sick last time, right? So it’s got to be something different,” he continued, not lifting his eyes to look at Ruby or Cera.