They were healing. Not any longer bound to the dens Medusa had placed them in. While Ghoul still couldn't run, they at least could walk about together. He had yet to see the other land that Medusa had chosen. Now that they were mobile, he wanted to check it out. Their walk there was leisurely and fun like old times. Wandering with his brother was always a delight. Enjoying their dumb conversations, Ghoul barely noticed their approach to the Tar Pits. When he had been told that Medusa also claimed this land, he hadn't expected this. His brow furrows as he stops along the edge of a bubbling pit of goop. "What the fuck was she thinking?" He rumbles in a confused tone as he glances over at his brother. "Why would she pick this place?" Ghoul questions, now hesitating to even go further into the territory. Ghoul Klein

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021
"Speech!"

Like his brother, Macabre was also steadily on the mend. His rattling, body-shaking coughs were reduced to throaty coughs and sniffles, and his own broken leg was nothing more than a mobile but stiff limb. He padded with Ghoul at his pace, still gingerly placing weight on his own paws after being rather immobile himself. The bandages on his face were removed after the infection cleared, revealing a puffy, red healing gash that sickeningly curled over his blinded, milky eyeball. That was another adjustment; being half blind meant he needed to watch his blind side. Thus, he stuck next to Ghoul with his disabled half facing his side, so as to be covered.

They reached the territory Medusa had claimed, curiosity glinting in his one silver eye. What an interesting territory..not very practical, but Mac wasn’t very practical either! Instead of staring at the bubbling mush in disgust, Mac’s tail wagged behind him, his grin widening upon his lips. I mean, nobody said Mac was picky. Or refined. Or thought carefully before acting.

Reaching down on the edge of the tar pool, Mac grabbed a glub of the bubbling goop, feeling it stick and glob on his paws as he slapped a dripping, nasty pie of sorts. A mud pie..but made of tar. He showed it to Ghoul, practically beaming.

"I dunno Ghoul, but look! Tar pie!"

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

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021
"Speech!"

Macabre was lucky to have Ghoul beside him. Limp and all. His larger brother would always look out for him, and with his one eye permanently damaged, he’d need the extra set of functioning eyes. Just to keep watch when he wasn’t able to see what came his way. He considered himself pretty capable of looking out for himself, but that was the ego talking, perhaps - he was smaller, half blinded too. Easy prey, in a sense. Well, whatever; Mac wasn’t fixing to get into any spars any time soon. Perhaps the idea of fighting simply to shed blood was behind him..unless it was a corpse needing to be skinned and taxidermied.

The tar pie began to congeal in his paws, making him all the more messy and sticky. The stuff was goong to take forever to get out of his fur, but not like it didn’t blend into his chaotic smattering of spots, anyways. He watched with a wide grin as Ghoul suddenly hopped off, turned, and swung a glob of tar towards his face. Ah, think fast! He felt the spray of tar past his face as it was flung by him, landing on the ground with a wet splat.

"Absolutely delicious!" He yelled back, bouncing up and down in his spot.

A peel of laughter left Ghoul. It felt absolutely amazing to be care free for a moment. To forget about all the bullshit, all the pain, all the stuff that kept his chest feeling tight all the time. Watching the tar fly past Mac and Mac bounding in response, Ghoul smiled wide. Wider than he had in a longtime, he picks up another glob of tar. The semi-liquid is warm and sticky in his paw as it begins to cover his leg. Quickly flinging it at his brother again, his grin turned mischievous. Before Mac had a chance to recover, Ghoul picked up another pile and flung it again. “You can’t dodge all of them!” He laughed as he threw yet another tar pie-ball at Mac in good fun.

G H O U L

Oh boy. The tar began to cool and thus began to congeal, thickly snagging against the hairs of his already scruffy coat. He didn't really pay it much mind, though; it appeared that he was fully prepared to drown himself in even more tar if it meant having fun with his brother. He squeaks as a formed tar-glob flies past his blind side, and he feels the strange warmth of the stuff sticking onto his chest. He's struggling to move now- he sluggishly and awkwardly half-hobbles towards the tear yet again, forming a coagulated pile of tar that he then aims to throw at Ghoul's chest. "It's about time you had matching spots like me!" ”Speech” ’Thought’

The more tar that flies through the air, the more his movements begin to slow. His own coat thickens with the tar as it hardens and congeals. His toes stick together and make it hard to escape the ball of goop that flies toward his chest. A fake ’oof’ noise leaves his lips with a laugh to follow. “How did you know I was jealous?” Ghoul calls out to Mac as he picks up yet another ball of tar. Flinging it in his brother’s direction, there is no longer any care or accuracy of where it goes or lands. If it hit Mac, yippee, if it didn’t, oh well! That was half the fun of a tar-ball fight, right? Ghoul Klein