The Infested charged at the figure, intent on tearing it apart, but under their claws it collapses, hollow as papier mache. Saryn drops from her hidden crawlspace, her decoy having done its job and lured the beasts from their healers. A noise like a sigh, quiet as death, is barely heard as Saryn's fungal growths spray the air with toxic spores. By the time the Infested sense danger, they have already inhaled them, the fungus consuming them as they consumed other lifeforms, and as their bodies rupture, the beautiful miasma of spores grows. Saryn's tea is as beautiful and delicate as she, a heady ruby brew of rose and hibiscus topped with sweet, sweet passionfruit. Enjoy iced with tropical fruits.