Grazing. Is there anything more relaxing in all the Krosmoz? ![DOFUS Touch Mystery and Ball of Fleece]()
Nibbling along, guided by the delicate scent of barley and oats, savoring the complex flavor of hemp, and delighting in wild herbs near fallen tree trunks. Dawn is the time for young sprouts still cool from the night, sipping the morning dew, and nibbling at thin young tree roots. When the sun is high in the sky, it's time to fill up on some lovely chopped hazelnuts with a side of dried grass. And then, after a well-earned rest in the shade while the sun sets, it's the perfect time to chow down on moss and forest mushrooms, and gnaw on walls and fences in the area.
But the ultimate treat, the one that leaves you drooling for hours, the pleasure you only allow yourself in moments of weakness, the one you devour for special occasions, the one that caresses your palate so well is obviously the lemon. The lemon – that tangy treat, that fruit that is firm on the outside and soft on the inside – makes your mouth water with anticipation. Yes, a Gobball's life is truly the most peaceful of all…
One fine afternoon, our young Gobball woke from its usual nap. The sun had wrapped the day in a gentle spring warmth and was now slowly sinking below the horizon, making room for a cool breeze. The sun was taking on an orange tint and the clouds were glowing pink; nearby, the perfectly orchestrated song of crickets was starting. The woolly animal got nimbly up onto all fours. It shook itself off and the leaves and twigs fell from its woolly coat.
The fruity, enchanting scent of a nearby lemon tree tickled the Gobball's nose. The animal easily recognized its favorite tree – the large one on the hill. It just loved rubbing its fleece against that tree's trunk, nibbling its bark, and lapping at its sap. Without waiting a moment longer, the Gobball set off, following the tangy scent of the fruit tree.
Along the way, the animal felt something strange. A sharp gust of wind lifted it up in the air briefly, its vision wavered and blurred slightly. The Gobball flailed its legs in the air and then fell heavily to the ground. The animal squinted in confusion and then started walking to the lemon tree again gaily.
When it reached the top of the small hill, the Gobball was surprised to find a frail young sprout exactly where its tree should have been. The animal walked around the sapling, sniffing at its leaves in confusion. Where had the huge, beautiful lemon tree gone and what was this little thing doing in its place?
Upset because its feast was spoiled, the Gobball stretched out on the green grass, staring fixedly at the small sapling, waiting for the large tree to reappear. Then, as a wave of disappointment took root in the animal's heart, it realized that it had been being watched for a while now. When it lifted its eyes, the Gobball saw an imposing, faceless pink silhouette whose body was spasming oddly. Close to panic, the startled animal bleated and got its legs tangled as it tried to get up. The humanoid shape lunged at the terrified Gobball. The landscape changed completely.
The Gobball landed on its back, hooves in the air, on hard, rocky ground. When it got up, the woolly creature saw that the entire ground consisted of dark rock and scattered small patches of grass. A shy sun was barely peeking through a thick layer of cloud. The wind was blowing in violent gusts and the repetitive echo of waves crashing against a cliff resounded throughout the valley. On the horizon, the Gobball could see a wild sea whose dark blue color was almost indistinguishable from the gray rock its furious waves were beating. In the distance, windmills were spinning their blades with the wind, and finally, at the top of an impressive cliff stood a tower with circular curves. Its base and roof were decorated with shiny bluish plating. Massive blocks of stone surrounded the top of the edifice, and a spire rose from the roof stretching vertically into the sky.
The Gobball blinked its little eyes several times before realizing it was indeed in this new environment. At its feet, the sapling and the former lemon tree had disappeared, and in there place was a sorry mountain pasture. A single mouthful was all it took for the Gobball to rip all of the grass from the dark rock. A few sparse flowers lit up the dreary valley floor, and the animal made haste to gobble them all down – although there were no where near enough to satisfy its hunger. Whatever was it supposed to eat in this strange place?
Sad and frightened by the disappearance of its beloved valley, its endless food stores, and its favorite lemon tree, the Gobball slid, nearly crawled, to the edge of the cliff and dropped down onto its belly. Yes, it was going to starve to death here.
Just then, the pink silhouette reappeared and the air screeched strangely. The scenery around this curious shape seemed to get sucked in and disappear. The Gobball lifted its nose suddenly, like a Bow Wow hardened by the hunt that spots nearby prey and gets ready to lunge. And in a flash, the animal was on the strange pink silhouette. The shape seemed to falter before the animal's impulsive attack. The Gobball jumped again and went straight through the amorphous silhouette.
When the Gobball's hooves touched ground again, the animal couldn't help but bleat with joy. It had landed on the green grass of its original hill. And there in front of it was the majestic lemon tree – not some thin, sickly sapling, but an imposing tree bearing juicy fruit. Without wasting a second to look back and watch the rocky plain and distant windmills disappear behind it, the Gobball raced toward the fruit tree. It threw itself against the bark of the trunk, causing a very ripe lemon to drop from the leaves and land in front of the animal's nose.
The pink silhouette had disappeared from the Gobball's field of vision. All around, there was nothing but the green expanse the Gobball knew so well, the trees filled with fruit, and the tranquil babbling of a brook nearby. The sun had finished its day's work and was dropping rapidly to hide below the horizon. The air was warm, the breeze was gentle, and the lemon was especially sweet. No doubt about it – the grass is not greener anywhere else!
But the ultimate treat, the one that leaves you drooling for hours, the pleasure you only allow yourself in moments of weakness, the one you devour for special occasions, the one that caresses your palate so well is obviously the lemon. The lemon – that tangy treat, that fruit that is firm on the outside and soft on the inside – makes your mouth water with anticipation. Yes, a Gobball's life is truly the most peaceful of all…
One fine afternoon, our young Gobball woke from its usual nap. The sun had wrapped the day in a gentle spring warmth and was now slowly sinking below the horizon, making room for a cool breeze. The sun was taking on an orange tint and the clouds were glowing pink; nearby, the perfectly orchestrated song of crickets was starting. The woolly animal got nimbly up onto all fours. It shook itself off and the leaves and twigs fell from its woolly coat.
The fruity, enchanting scent of a nearby lemon tree tickled the Gobball's nose. The animal easily recognized its favorite tree – the large one on the hill. It just loved rubbing its fleece against that tree's trunk, nibbling its bark, and lapping at its sap. Without waiting a moment longer, the Gobball set off, following the tangy scent of the fruit tree.
Along the way, the animal felt something strange. A sharp gust of wind lifted it up in the air briefly, its vision wavered and blurred slightly. The Gobball flailed its legs in the air and then fell heavily to the ground. The animal squinted in confusion and then started walking to the lemon tree again gaily.
When it reached the top of the small hill, the Gobball was surprised to find a frail young sprout exactly where its tree should have been. The animal walked around the sapling, sniffing at its leaves in confusion. Where had the huge, beautiful lemon tree gone and what was this little thing doing in its place?
Upset because its feast was spoiled, the Gobball stretched out on the green grass, staring fixedly at the small sapling, waiting for the large tree to reappear. Then, as a wave of disappointment took root in the animal's heart, it realized that it had been being watched for a while now. When it lifted its eyes, the Gobball saw an imposing, faceless pink silhouette whose body was spasming oddly. Close to panic, the startled animal bleated and got its legs tangled as it tried to get up. The humanoid shape lunged at the terrified Gobball. The landscape changed completely.
The Gobball landed on its back, hooves in the air, on hard, rocky ground. When it got up, the woolly creature saw that the entire ground consisted of dark rock and scattered small patches of grass. A shy sun was barely peeking through a thick layer of cloud. The wind was blowing in violent gusts and the repetitive echo of waves crashing against a cliff resounded throughout the valley. On the horizon, the Gobball could see a wild sea whose dark blue color was almost indistinguishable from the gray rock its furious waves were beating. In the distance, windmills were spinning their blades with the wind, and finally, at the top of an impressive cliff stood a tower with circular curves. Its base and roof were decorated with shiny bluish plating. Massive blocks of stone surrounded the top of the edifice, and a spire rose from the roof stretching vertically into the sky.
The Gobball blinked its little eyes several times before realizing it was indeed in this new environment. At its feet, the sapling and the former lemon tree had disappeared, and in there place was a sorry mountain pasture. A single mouthful was all it took for the Gobball to rip all of the grass from the dark rock. A few sparse flowers lit up the dreary valley floor, and the animal made haste to gobble them all down – although there were no where near enough to satisfy its hunger. Whatever was it supposed to eat in this strange place?
Sad and frightened by the disappearance of its beloved valley, its endless food stores, and its favorite lemon tree, the Gobball slid, nearly crawled, to the edge of the cliff and dropped down onto its belly. Yes, it was going to starve to death here.
Just then, the pink silhouette reappeared and the air screeched strangely. The scenery around this curious shape seemed to get sucked in and disappear. The Gobball lifted its nose suddenly, like a Bow Wow hardened by the hunt that spots nearby prey and gets ready to lunge. And in a flash, the animal was on the strange pink silhouette. The shape seemed to falter before the animal's impulsive attack. The Gobball jumped again and went straight through the amorphous silhouette.
When the Gobball's hooves touched ground again, the animal couldn't help but bleat with joy. It had landed on the green grass of its original hill. And there in front of it was the majestic lemon tree – not some thin, sickly sapling, but an imposing tree bearing juicy fruit. Without wasting a second to look back and watch the rocky plain and distant windmills disappear behind it, the Gobball raced toward the fruit tree. It threw itself against the bark of the trunk, causing a very ripe lemon to drop from the leaves and land in front of the animal's nose.
The pink silhouette had disappeared from the Gobball's field of vision. All around, there was nothing but the green expanse the Gobball knew so well, the trees filled with fruit, and the tranquil babbling of a brook nearby. The sun had finished its day's work and was dropping rapidly to hide below the horizon. The air was warm, the breeze was gentle, and the lemon was especially sweet. No doubt about it – the grass is not greener anywhere else!