dreams in slate

The ambiance of the roaring waves below and the whistling breeze was disturbed. Someone was approaching, and they weren't being subtle about it. A wolf appeared, unknown to her, and oblivious. A male. Young, by the look of him. He stomped about without a care in the world, clearing a path through the field like a tank. To which, there was no surprise. The boy was bigger than even the ghost herself, by a little bit at the very least. Built much broader than she, and he held himself without poise. So a loner, young, and lacking in training and self discipline, she deduced.

He nearly tumbled straight over the cliff, to focused on the stomping of his own feet to notice the sudden drop off. A soft snort shuddered from her nostrils, be it of mirth, or disdain, it was hard to tell. He turned around, gaping at his surroundings like they offended him with their threat of death, as though it were unheard of for such a thing to occur to him. He finally laid eyes on her, and it seemed like he was trying to say something, but his brain wasn't connected to his mouth. "Something amiss, dear?" The phantom enquired softly, accented lyrics tumbling from inky lips with a simple quirk of the brow. Something was clearly the matter, or he should have noticed a cliff directly under his nose.