Mud Monsters and Pack ghosts

*Mortis* · 06-27-2020, 11:38 PM

The peaceful feeling of the evening never faded, and for that, he never truly believed anything out of the ordinary would happen. He remembered, intently, the feeling of a melice, heavy presence around them. He couldn’t quite explain what had given that feeling, if it was like the feeling of eyes, or what you felt watching a predator stalk you. It had been the sensation of something amiss. He wasn’t foolish enough to think there would always be such a blatant tell-tale of a presence, but… well.. Maybe he was.

He got up at one point to toss more wood to the flames, and he buried the remains of his fish so they didn’t attract any unwanted predators. Besides, he vaguely remembered being told at some point that fish worked as a great fertiliser, so he wasn’t doing the ground any harm.

He yawned, and stretched, done with his meal at that point, and flopped down onto the coat he had dragged into their camping spot. “Tell me a story Mal,” he suggested, not having any inkling if she actually would.

"Mortis"

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