[event] gourd time

Dagon stared at the gourd in front of him with furrowed brows. Many a Grem had been eager to start working on projects like pies and jack-o-laterns and what have you, but he thought it a waste of time. Nevertheless, an enthusiastic gourd salesmam had practically dropped this one straight into Dagon's hands, and they had been shooed off before they could try and give it back to the other grem.

Now, back at their home, the gourd continued to sit untouched, and the Grem in front of it still just as annoyed as they were when they first got the gourd.

"Honestly," Dagon huffed, a long, sharpened claw glinting in the light as they inched it towards the gourd. "I don't see the appeal."

Even then, Dagon started carving.

First, he rid the gourd of its top, sharp claws making quick, clean work of it as he sat the separated stem to the side. Next came the guts of the gourd. Dagon frowned the entire time, the insides and seeds being a texture they didn't really care much for. A sheet pan had been set to the side for this, and Dagon unceremoniously plopped all the insides onto it, eager to rid his fingers of the mess.

"Ugh," he continued to grumble, scraping every goopy and gunky piece of gourd guts out of the plant until it was almost squeaky clean. Dagon's eye and frills twitched, a bit overstimulated by just how bad the texture had been. But now, he had made it to the fun part. With the gourd now empty, the second half of carving could begin.

Dagon would consider himself artistically challenged if anyone were to ask, so the grem kept the carving to a simple scary face. Wobbly eyes and mismatched teeth made the jack-o-lantern look more goofy than spooky, but Dagon still felt a twinge of pride at the craft in from of him. So, with a candle added and a replaced top, the gourd now resided in the window of Dagon's abode, flickering calmly, like a lantern for the poor souls stuck out in the dark.