"Cheese or rotted meat," Stephen repeated, his tone amused. "Sounds like a delightfully squishy descriptor." As for getting rid of them entirely, of course he'd considered that - it was preferable, but he had a feeling that they could all work themselves to the bone to eradicate squishy cheese hounds and it would all be moot - the island was in control, whatever forces were at play here. Unfortunately, they had to surrender to that control.
He slenderized ice blue eyes in a thoughtful squint. "If anyone were to be asked about it, it'd be Pippin," he said - she seemed to have the most knowledge about the creatures, and other creatures they may encounter. "But like the ghost ship, or the feast for only a day, I have a feeling it's a timed thing - some spells you can't change or correct once they're cast. They have to run their course - this might be a similar thing too."
He shrugged one shoulder, reaching up to rub at a kink of muscle there. "But it's worth an ask anyway. I'd hate to just keep doing this and then we find out it's like putting in a sink stopper to get them to quit coming, or something."