Mud Monsters and Pack ghosts

*Mortis* · 05-26-2020, 03:27 PM

He laughed softly, good naturedly, at her response. His voice falling silent, his tale finished. He glanced about him, noting how at the end of the communal space, the grass was no longer flattened and pushed down. It stood up, tall and imposing, rustling in a faint wintery breeze. Beyond this space his father had created for the pack, their vision was limited. Hunkered down as they were by the fire, they could see nothing of the world beyond this place.

It was all too easy to imagine Anya beyond, waiting in the long grasses. Or the leaves to be like a corn field, with hidden figures beyond. The faintest trace of decay upon the wind, or was it just your imagination?

He wondered how far away the day was. It already seemed as through the two youngsters had been awake all night. With his blood humming in his ears, the boy well-concealed a smile, and lowered his head to his paws. Forcing out a yawn. “Well.” he said softly, “I’m tuckered” and he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

"Mortis"

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