a nice warm bowl of mac and ghoulda

Ghoul was more than happy to act as his brother’s guide wolf. Having a purpose helped keep the feelings of his own frustrations at bay. And since Mac was still adjusting to his blindness, it allowed Ghoul to adjust to his slow pace. His legs still ached daily and his joints would now creak if he moved too quickly. When he would be able to hunt again was not an answer he could give anyone. So today would be their exploring day. A day to get out and get some… not so fresh air.

When Mac lifted the muck up toward him, Ghoul’s face wrinkled in disgust before he let out a laugh. “I think I’ll pass on dessert this time,” he responded before he picked up his own lump of tar pie. Looking at the tar for a moment, the pale boy got a rather yucky but funny idea. Hopping quickly away from his brother on three legs, he kept his tar covered paw in the air. As he landed, he clumsily turned toward his brother and chucked the tar pie at Mac. “Was it tasty?!” Ghoul squealed as if they were pups again.

G H O U L