Mud Monsters and Pack ghosts
05-27-2020, 09:43 PM
Mal breathed softly at the invitation, but took it anyway, glad for the warmth. She looked into the fire, and quietly began a song. It was a plains tune about the rain, one that her aunt had sung to her occasionally when the woman put them to bed. It had words, but she merely hummed it in mellow and lilting tones, punctuated there and again by an occasional yawn.
A few months ago, she would've never have guessed she'd end up in a pack at all, and much less make such a close friend. Between the work, the near-constant training... this, this friendship she'd made with this winged boy, it settled a little something within her. The tune faded along with her consciousness, the fire crackling steadily before the wolves and their companions....
Hours later, she awoke with a start. The fire had gone out, a thin trail of smoke twirling up from the blinking embers. Her jaws stretched wide in a yawn that ended in a sudden shiver. Mal carefully removed herself from Mort's wings with the intention of putting another log in the fire, when the hackles began to ripple, unbidden, along her scruff. She felt... weird. As if she were being watched.
Pausing, Mal swiveled her head in the darkness, eyes going wide. There, in the distance, as real as flesh and bone, it seemed, the silhouette of a wolf stood in the long grass. Backlit by the moon, it was too dark to make out anything besides their outline. The wind, it seemed, carried the scent of deep earth, and blood her way. "Mort?" Her voice was strained, her body stiff, but she didn't dare look away. "Mortis!"
Current time: 11-24-2024, 08:29 PM
Powered By MyBB, © 2002-2024 MyBB Group.
