Mud Monsters and Pack ghosts

Malalia pushed him a way a lot, turning a hug into a play fight, or a brief thing. His closest friend allowed the comfort this time, and he knew her to be rattled. He kept the touch of his feathers over her soft and light, an easy thing to pull out of when she pleased. He matched his pace to the smaller wolf with ease, and the tel of then traversed the long grass.

Now that it wasnt a headlong dash, it was unnerving, dark and mysterious. The only blessing was the lack of eyes he felt over him. He didnt know why the... ghost? Had led then to the beach. He was determined to explore that very spot on the 'morrow.

They made it to the campfire in one piece. Perhaps Mals words had softened it. Perhaps it had never existed, it was hard to tell now that it was gone. When Mal collapsed, he pushed some more wood into the fire, getting a merry blaze going. With the camp lit bh the flames, he felt a little better. He collapsed beside Mal, offering a soft laugh of his own, nervous at first, and then boisterous as it grew. It was the laughter of survival, of disbelief tinged with doubt. It was genuine, and matched Mal for strength. "Oh, ghee whizz. I've never... let's not tell ghost stories at night again" he joked.