Mud Monsters and Pack ghosts

*Mortis* · 07-10-2020, 12:14 AM

He opened his eyes, and found the firepit, and slipped smoothly into another song, feeling Malalia deserved more than just one little song for her in-depth tale. This one he had picked up from a trader, when he had come along with his father to trade supplies. He had given the man a bone-knife he had made himself, and traded it for the lyrics. He wanted to expand his knowledge of many things, from the art of crafting, to that of music. He wanted to learn tales too, to find one to bring back to Malalia. Perhaps he would have to make up his own too, once he had a better understanding of the rhythm of stories.
”My girl, my girl. Remember the chill When rains froze and snows did kill. We fell and fell And danced along Through icy hell To their winter song.

My love, my love Remember the cries, When winter died for spring skies. They roared and roared. But we grabbed our seed And sowed a song Against their greed.” this time when he fell silent, he cleared his throat, and smiled up at Malalia. His belly was full, and he took a drink from the flask near his feet.

"Mortis"

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