I Know The Pieces Fit

Prospero rasped a breath as the male approached, drawing in as much breath as he could to address him. When the male spoke however the ghoul found he was only capable of speaking one word: “Sanctuary.”

The conjoined rats chittered excitedly as they roved over the misshapen creature delighted by the contrast between their charge and the leader standing before them. “How graceful!” One head chimed appreciatively. “How elegant!” Spoke the other.“What beauty!” they cheered in unison. The wolf beneath them gave a phlegmy groan in irritation that as not without a touch of envy, as more spittle and bile dripped from his ruined jaw. “Proshpero...Is my… name” He moaned introductorily. “But I would be called by…” He paused to draw in air, his breath whistling and his frame rising visibly from the effort. “…Mishter Clemm.”

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