Mud Monsters and Pack ghosts
Mortis
Master Fighter (245)
Master Hunter (240)
Marauder
age
6 Years
6 Years
gender
Male
Male
gems
103
103
player
Seadragoness
Seadragoness
05-26-2020, 04:59 AM
Mortis stared into the fire as Malalia spoke, her voice a quiet hum, words painting pictures, until he could just about see this girl in the movements of the flames. He could imagine the long grasses to be the reaching forks of the fire. The orange hues the moving figures of wolves. She told him a story, and he listened, and imagined it. He was lost enough in it that he did notice her quiet movements as she shuffled suddenly closer. That her voice reached more easily to his ears seemed more like a product of the tale then her movements. When she paused, he blinked in surprise, turning to face her, and shifting his weight ever so subtly as she licked her paw. He was impatient to hear more, to let himself get lost in her voice once more. But he did not voice his thoughts, keeping quiet so not to ruin the spell she had laced in the air around them. He gasped softly when she spoke of the pups being discovered, alive, and not killed by whatever bespelled the girl. He groaned softly when he told her she had not surfaced from the pit. The pack had murdered her in their mistake. He would have thought the guilt would lay more heavily on their souls, but life went on… or did it? He heard the suspense in her ending statement. “Did she come back?” he whispered ever so softly, his voice barely piercing the night air. And by ‘back’ he didn’t mean in the flesh. This was a ghost story, after all. |
