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“Oh, mushrooms!” Wild bounces excitedly and then starts pulling them all into his Slate, happy to finally start restocking on some essential supplies. Like things for soup stock. They go through a lot of soup, his brothers and him, just by dint of it being an easy thing for him to make (relatively speaking) in relation to the number of mouths to feed.
And mushrooms are a Goddess-send when it comes to making soup taste like something that isn’t just water. And any kind of food lying around in Rulie’s time period is always a pleasant surprise.
All together a win-win. It’s a good day.
Wild does know to check with the others before adding any random food item into his edible inventory. He knows this very very well. He also knows that Hyrule’s era is particularly prone to non-consumable plant life.
But his Slate happily stores them in with the rest of his Stamella Shrooms, and that is that. Fantastic.
He forgets about the whole thing, and forgets it quickly. The idea of taking the time to remember every single instance of foraging is laughable, really. With the amount of it that Wild does? He would have no room left in his head for anything else, after all.
But it’s about six days later, maybe. And he’s handing out the mushroom skewers he made for lunch, because they are having a long day of walking. (Something about needing to get all the way over to a specific farm for some problem or another that Wild wasn’t really paying attention to.)
So they stop just long enough to get a fire going, for Wild to roast a few light morsels while they all rest their feet, and store a bunch for later, It’s efficient, and it is kind of tiring in it’s own right, but it is what they have to do at this moment in time.
As things are handed out, Hyrule, as usual, takes less than a second to go from food-in-hand to food-in-mouth. It’s impressive, frankly, but the novelty is starting to wear off.
What is novel, here, now, is the way that Rulie goes pale and spits the bite of grilled mushroom out. Before anyone else can do anything else, he is slapping Wind’s own lunch out of his hands.
“Rulie, what the fuck?” Wind scoffs, glaring sadly down at his lunch.
“No one eat anything!” Hyrule says, going around in a haphazard circle and just.. Slapping food to the ground. No one fights him, they are all just a little to stunned, a bit too caught off guard by the whole thing. “It’s poison.”
All eyes turn to Wild, shocked, confused, but not accusatory. They know each other一trust each other一far too much by now to think that he would ever do something like this on purpose.
“Where did you get these?” Hyrule hisses, finally coming around to Wild himself and yanking the skewer out of his hand. He holds it up, points to the green bits of grilled fungus, and waits.
That is a great question. Wild isn’t really sure where he got them. He gets food from all over the place all of the time, and it’s not like his Slate tracks which specific item is which when it collates together multiple of the same item.
That would just be ridiculous.
“Wild, these are poison,” his brother tells him. “I told you to ask me before you foraged anything in my era.”
Oh. Oh no.
Wild goes wide-eyed, the implications catching up with him. He needs to explain this. “Well, in my era, they are not poisonous. So… I didn’t think it needed to be checked.”
“Oh no.” Legend gets with the program. “Wild, how much?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“No, we are talking about it,” the Vet says. “Wild, how much of our food stores are theoretically compromised because of time shenanigans?”
Wild looks down at his Slate, flicks through the inventory. There are things that he knows are good. Like wheat, and rice, and eggs, and honey… right? But all the pre-cooked meals, and the mushrooms and the berries and the一
Oh they are so fucking fucked.