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“Eugh, it’s so slimy! Isn’t there some spell to deal with all this, like Prestidigitation?” Thalassa’s lip curled in distaste.
“The point of carving pumpkins is tradition, not efficiency.” Gale needled in response. “Besides, I thought you preferred doing things the old ways.”
“Not when that means grabbing handfuls of gourd guts.” She grumbled, picking bright orange strings off her fingers.
“It’s Liar’s Night! It is not a time to tempt fate by eschewing the proper rituals.” Gale argued.
“Although, I’m not opposed to enchanting our candles to keep them lit through the night.” He added pensively. “We’ve had enough bad luck.”