06-05-2020, 07:33 AM
if i stare into the abyss, will it stare into me?
The dust has been on his mind. It's been gone for days now, and all signs that it ever even blew through Taiga have been washed away by summer rain. Still, the titan thinks about it. What was it? Where did it come from?
What did it do to him?
As soon as it touched his skin, it set Skeleton Ghoul's entire body on fire. Every nerve ending felt raw, like there was sand flowing through his veins -- even a tough old goat like him couldn't hang onto consciousness for long under that sort of onslaught. But when he woke? He felt like a new horse. Nothing was visibly different, he still has his scars and short bobbed tail, but he feels different. Better. His joints don't pop when he gets up from a nap. That bothersome locking stifle of his doesn't ache anymore.
It's bizarre ... but welcome, he supposes. Whatever the dust had been had done something.
Skel lifts his head, licking his scarred lips as water dribbles messily down his chin and off of his beard. Heaving a huge sigh, he turns away from the river at the Taigan border and walks along beside it. He's been treading this same road often and long enough now that there is a visible path where the ferns don't grow anymore because he steps on them. It's not a job commanded on him by the leaders of the land, no, Skeleton Ghoul just patrols the borders of his own accord, keen on keeping the land he's grown to love safe.
He pauses and lifts his heavy head, smelling the air. Someone is nearby, so he waits, and finally spots the stranger. It's not a stranger though, it's a scent Skel has come across before. The gangly yearling lives in Taiga, as does his mother, or so the giant thinks. Skeleton Ghoul is not the best at being social.
The boy notices him, and surprisingly, knows his name. Dark ears tip forward, interested. "That is my name, yes," he replies, shaking his messy mane so that it falls in fairy-braided tangles on both sides of his neck. "I know your scent, but not your name. Perhaps you will indulge me?"
What did it do to him?
As soon as it touched his skin, it set Skeleton Ghoul's entire body on fire. Every nerve ending felt raw, like there was sand flowing through his veins -- even a tough old goat like him couldn't hang onto consciousness for long under that sort of onslaught. But when he woke? He felt like a new horse. Nothing was visibly different, he still has his scars and short bobbed tail, but he feels different. Better. His joints don't pop when he gets up from a nap. That bothersome locking stifle of his doesn't ache anymore.
It's bizarre ... but welcome, he supposes. Whatever the dust had been had done something.
Skel lifts his head, licking his scarred lips as water dribbles messily down his chin and off of his beard. Heaving a huge sigh, he turns away from the river at the Taigan border and walks along beside it. He's been treading this same road often and long enough now that there is a visible path where the ferns don't grow anymore because he steps on them. It's not a job commanded on him by the leaders of the land, no, Skeleton Ghoul just patrols the borders of his own accord, keen on keeping the land he's grown to love safe.
He pauses and lifts his heavy head, smelling the air. Someone is nearby, so he waits, and finally spots the stranger. It's not a stranger though, it's a scent Skel has come across before. The gangly yearling lives in Taiga, as does his mother, or so the giant thinks. Skeleton Ghoul is not the best at being social.
The boy notices him, and surprisingly, knows his name. Dark ears tip forward, interested. "That is my name, yes," he replies, shaking his messy mane so that it falls in fairy-braided tangles on both sides of his neck. "I know your scent, but not your name. Perhaps you will indulge me?"
SKELETON GHOUL
@[Nashua]