Pleased with himself for making the offer, the boy beamed at his friend, and his tail set to wagging behind him. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he would be happy watching Malalia roll in a cow paddy. Swapping ghost stories was a much better use of their time.

On the way back to the pack, the winged boy stopped in the stream closest to Armada borders. After washing free the mud as quickly as possible, he emerged from the water, once again fully soaking wet, and very cold. They made their way to the communal fire pit, and would find smoldering embers of where the fire was going down for the night. Or was it going down for the morning? He wasn’t even sure what the time was any more.

He threw some more wood down, and turned the smolders into flames. He huddled close to the fire, wet, and cold, and sneezing. Well he fought to recover control of his nose he said. “You go first”

The mud monster wasn't the only one with a dirtied pelt, thanks to him tackling her earlier. Mala made her own quick rinse in the river, emerging slick and sodden with icy cold water. She shook vigorously, attempting to remove the excess from her coat before following Mortis back to the common grounds. She chuckled softly at the boy's sneezes and settled adjacent to him, a good length between them as they huddled close to the fire for warmth.

She hummed softly as she thought up a tale to tel, wracking her brain for stories she'd been told as a kid. She released a soft "Ah," and took a few moments to gather herself.

“One night a woman gave birth to a single little girl," she began. "And just as she was being born, the stars aligned, lightning struck the earth, and the autumn equinox began. The pup was named Anya, and she and her parents lived in a pack on a grassy plain — not so unlike this one,” Mala pointed out, with a tint raise of her eyebrow. “The grass was thick and tall, twice as tall as you, even, and went on for miles and miles. It was the pack’s main hunting grounds, so rich in prey that it was.”

“Anyway, Anya grew up like any other child. She got on her parents nerves, played with the other pups. But, once she reached a year old… strange things started to happen around her.” The girl looked into the fire, listened as it crackled ominously in front of them, letting the silence sink in.

“Animals seemed to drop dead at her feet. They started small, at first. Her mother found her in a cluster of dead sparrows, and a packmate found a trail of dead prairie dogs leading to her. And slowly, slowly, the animals got bigger. Wild boars, and even small deer started to die.”

She flicked her ears, a light smile on her lips. “At first, it was celebrated in the pack. Who wouldn’t want that power, killing your prey in an instant? But then…” Mal turned her green eyes to Mortis, unblinking in the firelight. “Two wolf pups went missing.”

The boy settled in comfortably, wiggled in the earth by the fire, and feeling the heat toast and dry his damp fur. He shuffled a little closer, ignoring the sensation of the heat as it wiggled beneath his fur. He would have to move back soon, or it would start to grow uncomfortable. For the moment, he was only happy he could be warm. He looked across the dancing amber tones to find Malalia’s eyes, and listen as she began her tale. Her humming was comforting, and he found himself picking up the tune softly as he gave her time to think. He had put her on the spot, after all. Patience was a virtue. The crackle of the fire, and the gentle hum of two different voices began the night, and then her story would follow. She spoke of the birth of a girl, and the pack she lived in. Mal spoke of the dead that followed in this girl's wake, like some sort of blessing… or curse. He remembered once more the dead bird he had found as a child. He imagined that tenfold, and shuddered. A hunter he might wish to be, but death to trail him? A curse for sure. He looked to the fire, and then to Malalia, wrapped up in her story. “What happened next?” he whispered. "Mortis"

Her ears flickered softly, quietly pleased that her friend was enraptured. She'd been terrified of this story as a child, and the similarity between the long grass of her own home and that of this story hadn't helped with that.

"The pack put a search party together, and they looked everywhere," she went on. "But it was if the pups had vanished into thin air, without a trace. It didn't take long to put two and two together, and not long after the pups went missing, they began to suspect Anya. After all, the creatures that died around her had been growing bigger and bigger. It was only a matter of time before she killed a wolf. Right?"

"Her parents denied the accusations. 'Not Anya,' they claimed. 'Not our daughter. She wouldn't harm a hair on those children's heads.' They still harbored their suspicions, of course, but the pack let her be."

As she told the tale, she slowly, subtly inched closer to Mortis, tail swept out behind her. "But on the third day, they found the only clue they needed: a splatter of blood belonging to one of the pups. And it just so happened to be nearest to Anya's den."

"Her parents could only protect her for so long. After this? The pack was enraged, and they started hunting the girl instead. They chased her, and chased her, until they came to the part of the land where the grass was the thickest and the longest. The pack lost sight of her for a moment, before she reappeared, caught in a pit of quicksand. She begged for their help, but the pack refused, and instead questioned her about the whereabouts of the pups. 'I don't know,' she kept repeating. 'I don't know.' And so, they left her there."

Mal paused here, humming absently as she licked some leftover dirt and plant matter from her paw. She looked into the fire, a light, strange smile on her lips. "Hours later, they found the two pups playing in an old badger den on the outskirts of the territory. They'd wandered off and fallen into a stream near Anya's den, and got themselves banged up pretty badly. It was the reason for the blood, the reason they couldn't find their scent at first. But they were alive."

"So the pack rushed back to the long grass, to the pit of quicksand they'd left the girl in. But she never resurfaced. The pack mourned her, and the grievous mistake they'd made. They put flowers at the foot of the pit, and begged their gods for forgiveness. Her parents left. But eventually, with the pups found, life went on, business as usual."  The girl's ears planed back, and she closed her eyes to the firelight. "For a time."

"Speech"

Mortis stared into the fire as Malalia spoke, her voice a quiet hum, words painting pictures, until he could just about see this girl in the movements of the flames. He could imagine the long grasses to be the reaching forks of the fire. The orange hues the moving figures of wolves. She told him a story, and he listened, and imagined it. He was lost enough in it that he did notice her quiet movements as she shuffled suddenly closer. That her voice reached more easily to his ears seemed more like a product of the tale then her movements. When she paused, he blinked in surprise, turning to face her, and shifting his weight ever so subtly as she licked her paw. He was impatient to hear more, to let himself get lost in her voice once more. But he did not voice his thoughts, keeping quiet so not to ruin the spell she had laced in the air around them. He gasped softly when she spoke of the pups being discovered, alive, and not killed by whatever bespelled the girl. He groaned softly when he told her she had not surfaced from the pit. The pack had murdered her in their mistake. He would have thought the guilt would lay more heavily on their souls, but life went on… or did it? He heard the suspense in her ending statement. “Did she come back?” he whispered ever so softly, his voice barely piercing the night air. And by ‘back’ he didn’t mean in the flesh. This was a ghost story, after all. "Mortis"

Her eyes opened slowly, and she turned to face Mortis, eyes slightly widened, and glowing with the firelight. "She did," she whispered back.

"Like I told you -- the long grass was the main source of their prey. After Anya passed, they left the area alone for a couple of days. But hey," she shrugged. "A wolf's gotta eat. The Alpha sent out a hunting party, to track a herd of deer that had wandered there. Five went into the long grass.... and four came back."

"The wolves who managed to return? They reported... strange things. The far-off silhouette of a she-wolf, covered in mud and sand. The whispers in the wind that said, 'You never believed me.' How the prints of their packmates simply vanished, mid-track." She scoffed lightly. "The Alpha dismissed them -- they must have been hallucinating out of guilt, or grief. But the same thing happened to the next hunting party. And the next..."

Mal moved ever closer, less than a foot between the two of them, now. "And the next. First one wolf was missing from each party. Then two. And then, all over the grassland, the pack experienced these sightings -- the whispers, the ghost of a girl in the distance, staring at them behind the waving blades of grass."

"Some chose to leave. Some chose to stay. But those who did, disappeared, one... " Closer. "...by one, into the long grass, never to be seen again. To this day, not a wolf has approached the land of her home without disappearing, or going insane. Some say Anya's spirit was angry, and that her revenge ended when her pack died out." Closer.... "But some say her wrath didn't end there. That her spirit lurks in all the grasslands of the world, looking to wipe out the pack members who escaped, as well as their descendants."

She smiled lightly. "It happened so long ago, there's some chance you or I could be related." She laughed softly, as if the thought was ridiculous. "But I don't think...." All at once, her eyes went wide, her gaze settling on some unknown point behind Mortis. Her fur began to bristle along her back, and the yearling was the picture of fear. "Mort...?" she whined softly.

If her plan worked, and the boy turned around to follow her gaze, she would pounce, a blood-curdling screech on her lips as she suddenly tackled the winged wolf.

"Speech"

Mortis, wide eyed and engrossed, shuddered at the thought of an enemy one could not fight. Or a pack, dying out as the Alpha was powerless to stop it. Mothers, fathers, siblings, children. No one who went into that long grass was safe. Shivering with the delicious sensation of fear and anticipation after a story well told. The fire popped and crackled, and his fur rippled as the sound sent a shock through him. He grinned, turning to Malalia, as through about to joke as his own foolishness, when she spoke his name. He could see the fear in her eyes, as they locked onto the danger behind him. A snarl was already on his lips, and he began to turn, shifting as he did so to put himself between Malalia and whatever danger was beyond. Wings began to spread, making himself seem bigger, and fully hiding Malalia from view behind them. Making such preparations in an instant, the boy turned, snarling violently, claws sinking into the earth as he prepared to leap at that -- wait, but there was nothing “Ahhhh!” he shrieked, leaping a foot into the air and shedding a few large sized feathers as he jumped. His cry high pitched and shocked as his jump turned into a tumble as Malalia finished her pounce upon him. He tasted dirt, and was already laughing, realising what had happened and how he had been played. Ooc: ( Don’t go into the long grass!! Anya is definitely a velociraptor, just saying) "Mortis"

Hmm... To be honest, she'd expected him to be a little more... scared, as he turned around to bravely face the night, and the distant grasses. She laughed internally at the vicious snarl that bubbled out of the boy's maw -- not derisive, but wonderful. Of course she hadn't really scared him all that much; Mortis was certainly courageous.

Ah, well. He'd turned around, and after all that was enough for her.

Malalia lifted up, wiggled her hips before vaulting into the boy, tackling him to the ground with a womp! and a brace of laughter at his shrill little cry. She slid away with a little flip of her tail, her forelegs bending halfway into a play bow. "Boy, you were ready to fight instantly," she chuckled. Her head tilted to the left. "Or maybe I'm just that good at acting."

She shrugged -- who knew? -- and sunk all the way to lay down again, her tail brushing contentedly across the grass as she settled near the flames. Right about now, she was feeling very lucky that she wasn't rolling in a cow pie. This was definitely a lot more fun, and she was excited to see what Mort would come up with. "Alright, your turn."

"Speech"

He blushed, wondering if he should mention that he had been trained by Sirius, who was a little paranoid and a lot protective. His shriek had been far from any sound of bravery, but he laughed a little anyway, taking her words as a compliment. He got back to his feet dusting himself off. He was still partly wet, and those parts of him collected mud and dust like it was their duty. “You sure looked like you were seeing a ghost” he agreed. “That was a pretty good tale, hmm, let’s see if I can think of something” He hadn’t done much storytelling in his life yet, but he settled back into the ground besides the fire, and let his eyes find the flame, as he considered. The first one that came to mind was much shorter than Malalia’s tale, but had a similar ring to it. Clearing his mind, the boy lowered his voice, and began. “The shortcut through the Corn field tempts you as you're walking home. The clouds above keep the moon concealed as you enter the swaying corn, alone. The corn grows tall and thick, my friend, the path you chose is muddy it grows in rows without scope or end and in the dark, you hurry” He paused a moment, letting the sound of the pooping fire accompany his silence, his eyes finding Malalia’s, locking onto her greens, as he widened his eyes every so subtly, hiding a smile, and continuing. “You don't see the standing forms As you pass them on your way they stand still amongst the swaying corn which hides their pallor, and decay hundreds gather in this field tonight though you see none at all yet still you look around in fright but the corn grows too thick, too tall You tell yourself as you continue through "Its merely the rustling of the leaves," But they see you, and they hear you, And they might not let you leave. “ As the boy finished he kicked a decent sized piece of wood into the fire, eliciting a sudden storm of crackling as the fire consumed it and grew. "Mortis"

Mal settled into a low, mellow hum, putting her head between her paws as Mortis thought up a tale to tell. Around them, the insects chirped, a quiet, undulating symphony behind the roaring flames. She blinked, ceasing the wordless tune as Mort began the tall, setting the stage on a cornfield at night.

The she-wolf had a love-hate relationship with horror stories. She loved the anticipation, the twists, the big reveals. She didn't particularly like her heart beating like a hummingbird in her chest, the shadows that looked like silhouettes long after the story had been told. She could fight a bear, a wild dog, no problem, but the creepiness of ghost tales always got to her for some reason.

Ever so slightly, she curled inward, tail tucking over her toes as the fire crackled, and Mort took her along the lonely, wandering path through the cornfield, slowly coming to realize the wanderer wasn't alone. The figures he described were vague, and worse, invisible. Her mind ran wild with it, filling in the gaps with the most horrible visuals it could come up with, and closing in on the fate of the wanderer.

Mal couldn't help but to flinch! when Mortis kicked the wood, throwing up a sizzle of embers, abrupt and almost ethereal in the quiet of the night. She laughed weakly, after a moment, but her ears were pinned and her fur standing on end, just a bit. "Well told, but jeez, if that isn't creepy...."

"Speech"

He laughed softly, good naturedly, at her response. His voice falling silent, his tale finished. He glanced about him, noting how at the end of the communal space, the grass was no longer flattened and pushed down. It stood up, tall and imposing, rustling in a faint wintery breeze. Beyond this space his father had created for the pack, their vision was limited. Hunkered down as they were by the fire, they could see nothing of the world beyond this place. It was all too easy to imagine Anya beyond, waiting in the long grasses. Or the leaves to be like a corn field, with hidden figures beyond. The faintest trace of decay upon the wind, or was it just your imagination? He wondered how far away the day was. It already seemed as through the two youngsters had been awake all night. With his blood humming in his ears, the boy well-concealed a smile, and lowered his head to his paws. Forcing out a yawn. “Well.” he said softly, “I’m tuckered” and he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. "Mortis"

She snorted faintly as Mortis announced his plans to sleep, and closed his eyes. It seemed just a tad abrupt, and he hadn't properly retaliated for that little pounce she'd made.... but the day had been long, and Mal was honestly too tired to go down that rogue. He did sound sincere -- sincere enough, anyway -- for the girl to take the bait.

Mal took one last look around the campsite, the smallest ripple of fear running though her body as she took in the distant, swaying grasses, like a dark ocean beneath the moonlight.'It's merely the rustling of the leaves'... right? She had nothing to be scared of. With a sigh, Malalia tossed her head back, laying along her side, her eyes blinking against the firelight. It took her focus off of the woods around her, for a while, but soon enough the creeping sense that something, someone, was watching her began to take hold.

It's no one, she told herself. She just had to close her eyes and wait for sleep to come.... so she did, humming softly to herself to drown out the night sounds. After a moment or two, the tightness in her shoulders eased away, and she grew quiet, breathing steadily. There was nothing to worry about.

"Speech"

Mortis popped open one eye, watching Malalia now that her eyes were closed, now that the tightness in her shoulders had eased. His grin grew, and he nodded to something in the distance, where the line of the long grass started. He put his head back to his paws, and then reached over, nudging Malalia gently. “Mal” He whispered, “Do you see that?” Barely moving, as though he was afraid to, he nudged a paw slightly towards the grass-line. As the two wolves watched, the grass began to move in that spot, parting slightly and snapping back into place, as though something moved in that spot. Holding his breath, the boy continued to watch, and then, further along, too fast for something to have walked in that time, there was movement again, the grasses flicking and bobbing. "Mortis"

Mal only let out a heavy sigh when Mortis pawed at her, though she couldn't deny the tiny jolt in her heart when he did. Of course he was doing this, he had to get back at her, right? The she-wolf flicked her ears as she raised her head to glare at the boy, her tail thumping with irritation as she moved her eyes towards where he'd gestured. The grass seemed to move there, but it was winter, after all, and the winds were causing the blades to move, anyway.

"Oh, come on," she snorted. "I know what you're trying to -- " And there it was, not just a shiver of the plant life, but that flicker of movement that past quickly behind it. "... do." Her heart plummeted, and she rose to her paws with the utmost care, tail sticking out behind her as she prepared for what seemed like a very real threat. She's seen you, and now she wants you gone....

The thought came unbidden, and Mal grumbled out a growl of frustration. Of course it wasn't a ghost, it wasn't Anya, or some corn-demon of death... but oh, try telling that to her pounding heart.


"Speech"

Mortis rose when Malalia did, keeping close to her, as through seeking comfort in her warmth. He gave no attention to her words, first disbelief, and then surprise as she saw what he had ‘seen’ “We should check it out” he whispered softly, seeing the careful concern in Malalia’s movements, the worry. How far would she go? Would she be brave enough to head to the treeline? There was the movement again, the blades parting even further, as though something big stood there, and then snapping back into place. No indication of where whatever it was had gone, as through it had simply vanished into nothingness. The long grasses of the Armada had never seemed so menacing as they did in that moment. The unknown beyond them, the barest light from the stars lighting their path. Long shadows were everywhere, and the only comfort the warm fire that crackled ominously behind them. "Mortis"

Mal briefly glanced over at Mortis when he pressed closer, though for the most part her gaze remained on the parting grass, eyes flitting this way and that at every little movement within the fields. She nodded slowly at Mortis' words, tail lowering as she beat back the animal fear that tingled under her skin. Ghosts weren't real (to her knowledge, anyway), but enemies were. And if this was more than a mere flicker of shadows, a trick of the light, it was their duty to investigate. She wouldn't let a little campfire story get in the way of that, not for anything.

The next move of the grasses settled it for her. Trepidation gave way to resolve as Malalia stalked forward, backlit by the lapping flames, ever cautious. Her ears twitched at the night sounds that enveloped them, but nothing out of the ordinary came to her, even as she strained to hear. She was finely tuned to every little sound, scent, or movement, then.

The tawny wolf paused at the bank of the long grass, hesitating for only a second before stepping into them, the blades brushing ever so softly against her fur. Inward she went, and onward, step by step. Her nose hovered above the floor, taking in the scents, trying to see a tuft of fur, the imprint of paw steps in the sparse, scattered shards of moonlight. "I'm not smelling anything," she frowned, though she was a bit more relieved. "Are you?"

"Speech"

It was really something to watch her bravery unfold. She stood taller, finding her determination, her resolve. She wouldn’t let a little something like fear keep her from doing her duty. He felt a little awed by it, and hoped she wouldn’t hold a grudge after this. He followed after her, letting her take the lead as she stalked forward towards the grasses. Even knowing what was out there, he still found them a little spooky. He wasn’t nearly as frightened of ghosts as Azure was, but a healthy dose of it still flooded his system as they made their way through the darkness. ‘Are you?’ Malalia asked, and in that same instant something launched themselves out of the trees at them. A leopard, with a playful growl stomping on her paws. A clever kea, with a thick blade of grass in its beak stepped forward on sharp talons, to tickle the blade under Mal’s jaw. “Holy wow, you were going to take on a ghost, just like that?” Mortis said, chuckling. "Mortis"

Malalia vaulted backwards with a not-so-brave shriek/growl/yelp as the leopard stomped on her paws with their own, a shiver running up her spine when the blade of grass was tickled just under her chin. She was about to rear forward again, ears pinned as her lips curled in an instant to snarl... but then she saw the ploy for what it was.

She panted disbelievingly as she stepped away from the grass, shards of laughter breaking away from her maw as she bent her head. "Dammit!"

She'd been played, and even in her irritation she couldn't keep a straight face. "Well, I didn't think it was an actual ghost!" she growled, the tone good-natured. "...But yeah, I guess I was." Her gaze found Mort and she narrowed her eyes, attempting to shoulder his side hard with her own, though the movement was unlikely to move the overgrown cub much. "That was a good one," she admitted. "Were they listening this whole time, or...?" She hadn't seen Mortis give any sort of signal, not one that she would recognize anyway.

"Speech"

Mortis started to laugh when she did, it seemed she wasn’t going to take offense to it. He was getting her back for making him squeal earlier, but revenge only tasted sweet if the other person wasn’t upset. He would very clearly remember who he was taking with him if he ever had to go ghost hunting. Malalia hadn’t known his companions were out here. She had braved the unknown, and some part of her must have thought it was ghosts, even well the logical parts warred over it. “Oofh” he said when her shoulder collided with his side, shoving into his ribs hard, but not unbalancing him. Okay, he supposed he deserved that. Laughing softly, he shook his head, and pointed to the Kea, who was dancing around the two wolves, tickling anything she could reach with her long blade of grass “It was Saphs idea, actually. She was listening, and after you gave me a fright, she started jumping up and down and miming stuff behind your back. When you closed your eyes, I was able to communicate back” he explained. He gave the small bird the most delicate fist bump, waiting until her talon touched his, and then pulled his paw back, miming an explosion. "Mortis"

"Hey!" She couldn't help but to yelp with sudden laughter when the Kea tickled under ribcage, curling a paw inwards. She flattened her ears, putting a good amount of distance between them as she, finally, stepped away from the grass. "Watch it," she warned, chuckling softly as she warded off the Kea. Now that she knew there weren't actual ghosts out there, she didn't want to go and start shrieking again from being tickled....

"Tricky," she commented, rolling her eyes skyward at the fistbump-explosion combo. "But you got me," she admitted, her words slow and yawning. The stars were still visible, but sleep was beginning to slow her movements, pulling at her limbs, her head. Gods, how late had they stayed out? "I'm actually going to sleep though."

They young woman padded back to the campfire, tossing another log in for good measure before bedding down beside it. Not quite asleep yet, she merely let her eyes rove over the flames, tail swishing every now and again.

"Speech"