When I first found myself trapped in an oversized garden in Grounded, Obsidian’s homage to Honey I Shrunk the Kids, I quickly became a killer of ants. Much bug blood was spilled in those early days, but then came the guilt, especially when I discovered that, like many of Grounded’s beasties, the ants aren’t naturally hostile.
I had no idea, as I was bludgeoning them to death with rocks, that when they waddled up to me they were just being inquisitive. When I see a bug the size of a horse heading my way, I assume it wants to eat me. I’ve tried to make amends, and for most of the last six months I haven’t so much as bopped an ant with my tiny fist. We’re not quite friends yet, but we’re definitely cordial neighbours. Well, most of the time. It’s not
