Emerging from their den with boredom on the mind, Ghoul made his way down the volcano's slope toward the thicket. Once blossomed and now dying off due to the lengthened heat stretching into fall, he wondered why things happened that way. Since he was reaching a year old, more thoughts popped into his head that he didn't quite have answers for. With his older siblings not really around, he didn't have much of anyone to ask either. Putting the idea of seasons to bed, for now, Ghoul found his hiding spot where he kept the remains of his kills to use for later. Whatever he or his caiman didn't eat, he saved. Pulling out a few hides that looked worse for wear, and other various bones and body pieces, he examined them with a quiet hum. Plunking his ever-growing hind end on the dried grass beneath him, he picked through his options to decide on what to make.

G H O U L

The den was getting..crowded. Really crowded. Hell, Mac could’ve sworn it was perfectly sized for all of their littermates, and then some for their mother to come in as well. Did they really grow that much? Even little Ichor grew, though not as large as everyone else. Even Mac wasn’t what you’d call large and in charge, but he’d certainly filled out well as a fighter for their age. Brimming muscle rippled beneath the chaotic sea of black and white spots as Mac followed after his brother, whose growth didn’t need to be explained. He was massive, and strong. They made an even more formidable team than ever. He was relieved to be out of the den’s now suffocating grip and soon trotted in Ghoul’s direction, his sickening grin twisted in its curled manner. A grimace to strangers was a beaming show of happiness for him and his family. Soon, the cow-spotted boy came across his sibling and the multitude of animal hides and bones, tilting his head to one sode in curiosity. "Whatcha gonna do with all that, dear brother?" He said, his usual playful tone seeping into his deepening rumble of a voice. He was sounding less squeaky and more ominous by the day. And, depending on who you were talking to, the slightest bit more unhinged. If anything, skinning and deboning small creatures was an activity he relished. Approached closer and picking up a tattered looking hide, he snorted and said teasingly, "Geez, maybe tell your croc buddies to save the skin. It comes in handy for all sorts of things. I can show you if you’d like," He flashed his wide grin towards Ghoul again, but it was all in good fun. He liked cracking jokes about all sorts of things, and he knew a thing or two about crafts after his enjoyment in taxidermy. ”Speech”  ’Thought’

By no surprise to him, Macabre had begun to follow like the endearing brother he was. They were two peas in a pod and if Ghoul wasn't spending time being mama's watchdog, one would be able to find the two together. Their differences spread far compared to personality and appearances, but their brotherly love would always stay strong. So as he pulled out the hides to examine them, he barely lifted a glance toward Mac when he asked what his plan was for all the hides and bones. Curling his own sort of mischievous smile across his pale lips, he continued his busy work of picking the not so torn ones.

"Going to make some snares and traps," he mentioned as he settled on a few good strips and lengths of bones that would make due. A deep laugh left him at the mention of his caiman's terrible handiwork. "They don't speak much common tongue. Bit hard to tell them to be gentle," Ghoul mentioned as he finally lifted his ruby gaze toward his brother. Each day, it appeared that Mac was unraveling farther and closer to being unhinged, but that didn't bother him. He had his own mean streak that he kept hidden and tidy behind closed doors.

"Care to help? I'm sure you can manage this better than me," the tinge of playfulness in his voice is obvious as he scoots to the side. Letting Mac have some space to sit down next to him, Ghoul grabs a few tattered pieces and begins twisting them as best as he could into rope-like lengths.

G H O U L