pocket aces

Meadow watches the pup, hoping that sees the leaves playing in the pile near him. Emotions filter in, distant and hard to grasp but the dead wolf begins to feel again. Her emerald eyes watch the brown and white wolf as he works on… something. A set of dice? Oh, he must be really smart to carve them all by himself. Still, she can’t help but think he needs to play and she longs for him to see her, to play with the leaves and enjoy being alive. She blows again, causing them to dance a little more, to swirl around in an slightly unnatural way.

The stranger sees them and sets aside his work, careful to cover the dice so they do not roll away. He rounds on her pile of leaves, a happy woof sending a pang of (… longing?… sadness?... joy?...) something resounding in her. He pounces on the leaves and a laugh bubbles up in the ghost’s chest, filling the air with the sound of a thousand tinkling bells. Wait. Had she imagined that or could he hear it? Emerald eyes search him but there seems to be no recognition of the sound.

Looking to the playing pup, Meadow spies another pile of leaves near him and jogs over, breathing onto it and sending the leaves into a flurry. A smile plays on her lips as she looks to the pup, hoping he will understand and chase after her.



"Speech!"

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