Let the Ghosts Laugh At Us, We'll Laugh Right Back

Alastor beamed brightly at the entity as it began to fade, agreeing that all that glows is spectacular. He wondered if the entity had seen what his marvelous children looked like thanks to the being's "curse". Waving a paw at the vanishing figure, Alastor bid the entity goodbye with a chipper "So long, my enigmatic fellow! See you next year!" With a happy sigh, Alastor turned to face Manea once more, clutching the opaque sack in his paws and all but ignoring the shocked look on his mate's face. "He's a lovely lad, he is! Glad to see he's doing well." Alastor cocked a curious brow when Manea explained how he was going to explain all of his to her before releasing a defeated sigh and began trudging back off towards the den.

"Wait!" he called after Manea, holding up the sack in his paws. "Don't you want to see what's inside?" Rolling his shoulders in an apathetic shrug, Alastor cut through the string keeping the sack closed with one sharp claw. He carefully peeled open the bag and peered inside, then laid the sack on the ground and carefully shimmied and shuffled it to empty the bag out on the grass, eager to see the contents of his mysterious grab bag.

"Alastor Mendacium"