Redrum

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021
"Speech!"

Truth be told, perhaps Macabre suffered from a case of lack of object permanence. If something didn't exist at the forefront of his mind for a while, or simply didn't present itself as something he interacted with daily - he just..didn't really think about it anymore. Perhaps for some wolves, it would be a tragedy; imagine a son forgetting about his own mother. And he kind of did. He remembered Recluse telling him she loved him a few times. She made time to learn about his projects. She smiles dearly upon seeing his own twisted, macabre grin - an echo of his sadistic father's. But that was the end of it, particularly after the challenge. He never saw his mother again, and if you'd ask him about recluse now, he'd probably just shrug. She left him with her other countless things - or children, whatever. He didn't bear any malice; he wasn't capable of holding heavy grudges to begin with, limited as his emotional capacity was - so he just didn't really put much thought into family that didn't care to see him anymore. But Ghoul? Ghoul was always by his side, thick and thin. Ghoul cared for him. Ghoul and Mac were two very-different-but-very-alike peas in a pod. He loved Ghoul more than..he supposed more than taxidermying the biggest squirrel! And Cricket, too..Cricket was like, a sister that actually bothered to hang out with him, and she was super cool. Widow was also becoming more of a memory rather than family; she hated her brothers, and truthfully, Mac didn't care. He didn't put much stock into others that didn't talk to him. Whatever!

He heard his nickname called out into the open, and Mac paused his current project; he was skinning a poor fox that had succumbed to some sort of bad food it ate. He should know; he'd examined its stomach contents, too. He was clearly unpresentable, slick offal and viscera tainting his mottled paws a sickly red. But when did Mac ever care for such trivial matters like looking nice? He trotted towards Medusa, seeing her slim figure in the distance, and as he drew closer, his pawprints staining the grasses a rust color behind him, he tilted his head and glanced at her with his one good eye. He had to cant his face to favor his good side to see her more clearly, but her scent and her distinct appearance confirmed it was her.

"Yep, that's me, the cow-boy!" He said, lips curling into a grin. "What's up, Medusa?"