a river full of stones

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021
"Speech!"

Mac figured Medusa wouldn’t tie him down in the tar pits like some of the other pack members; after all, he’d done nothing to slight her, and he felt he’d earned enough of her trust to just go and explore as much as his blinded eye would allow. He felt mostly recovered from his life-threatening pneumonia; the crackles that once plagued his lungs were now barely audible. His breathing was clear, and each step he took brimmed with strength. Oh, and besides the occasional firefly in his piss, he wasn’t leaking those guys out anymore, too. Safe to say he was virtually all mended. Except for the having-one-side-pitch-black vision wise, but he was already growing accustomed to it.

His other senses more than made up for the disability - the cow-spotted man perked his ears and the familiar Insomnia pack scent drew him closer to the banks of the stream. He suddenly came upon the scene of a very, very tiny green wolf. He almost mistook her for a child, she was so tiny! Macabre csnted his head to one side, mostly so his seeing eye had a better view of her. Knowing she wasn’t a total stranger - but he didn’t know her, regardless, he opted to pad closer. Paws soaked from the creekwater, he smiled down at the she-wolf, but instead of pointing out the obvious about her size, he glanced at her fruitless attempt to catch a fish and said, "I don’t think you’re gonna catch anything by sticking your nose in it. Wanna make a net?" He grinned, the edges of his lips curling - it would look sinister, had he not been a decently small-ish guy himself. "You’re from Insomnia too, right? I’m Macabre, but everyone just calls me Mac. I like to taxidermy dead stuff."