An Agitated Giant Peach-Faced Lovebird has killed two dwarves, earning it the name Tusungavog (“Conjuredredged”).

Nick’s fort has been having a right time of it lately, with giant birds getting into his farming area, killing most of his chickens, and murdering two of his dwarves. As he explains,

“Agitated” animals that attack are apparently what happens when you fell too many trees per unit of time (likewise fishing, plant gathering, and hunting) and although they theoretically can reset, attacking those animals while other animals [are] on the map can flip them to Agitated, which makes it easy to spiral out of control.

This is having various distressing consequences:

The ravens also keep chasing people into trees they can’t get down from?
I keep finding starving, dehydrated dorfs passed out in the canopy layer

A dwarf settles for an afternoon snooze among some autumnal tree branches. Not shown: crippling hunger and thirst, fear of mortality.

But the beauty of this game lies in scenes like the following:

Much of the front of the fort is stacked three and four deep with Agitated Giant Raven and Agitated Flying Squirrel Men and Agitated Unicorns and Agitated Peach-Faced Lovebirds and this kid is out here, undaunted.

A dwarven child plays make believe while corpses of dwarves and Agitated Giant Ravens litter the ground nearby.

And the irony, too:

Description of an in-game poem called *And She Sang ‘Crows!’* — an example of a poetic form “concerning someone recently deceased.” 😐

This was all far too funny not to take as a poetry-writing challenge. So, presented without further comment:

And She Sang ‘Crows!’
Såkzul Letmoslegon

Winged shapes overhead, in a beat ending all music. Crows!

The unlucky are scattered aloft. Strangest mood:
Tired bones in the trees, deep asleep, go unheard.
Slender leaves red with fall; underneath, a red hood;
Voices rise from the fort—come back in—your own good—
But the child finds herself humming still. Pretty bird.