[open] I try to keep from going under

[Chemdog]

Chemdog’s shoulder was slashed and poisoned a few weeks prior, and is just now starting to heal. He monster’s venom finally drained completely, leaving gnarled scar tissue and rough oozing scabs. It was not pretty, but he was rather proud of living through his encounter. The memory of a shadowy girl, all sharp teeth and eerie riddle-eyes, pulling the long glass like fangs from his bloodied wounds. She kept some for a souvenir, and he scooped up the other teeth. They clank in his thick mane, braided into it like a little chime that sings when disturbed. He ran to the River after his attack and has yet to leave and find something better to do with himself.

He moves through the darkness with a tall dark ghost at is side. It is an enormous stallion, black in life, but ghoulishly white and translucent in his afterlife form. His eyes a hollow white, his expression hardened and stoic, walking in step with Chem and picking his head up to look toward various noises along the route. He is Mohan, his grandfather. An old spirit, aggressive but only when provoked. His grandson summons him often these days. They don’t speak, but walk in silence together, the dim glow of Mohan’s form lighting a grayish radius around them. He is silver like moonlight, moving fluidly between worlds with the help of his kin.

He’s not sure why he feels like a walk along the coast, a lonely figure moving across the edge of the sands where the River meets the sea, but he finds himself enjoying the sound of the waves and the crisp smell on the wind. The smells become mixed though, mixed with the smell of a stranger, someone close. Through the fog he can see the glow of her horns, he snorts, but isn’t heard it seems like. He walks closer to the stranger, Mohan dissipating into a soft cloud of mist before drifting away on the wind completely. Chem watches her coat change and the look on her face when it does, a chuckle booms from his chest and he breaks through the wall of thick fog. He stops just short of walking in, watching her from shore with only his toes ouching the frigid seawater. “Isn’t that interesting.” his expression is bright, even smiling, but Chem’s always got a hungry look in his eye – a primal twinge in the glassy teal of his steady gaze. He exhales, “Neat trick.” he blinks, trying to soften his predatory look; he can always feel it rising in him. Sometimes he nurtures it, sometimes he tries to keep it at bay, but its always there waiting to slither out and take over.

CHEMDOG
to the window, to the wall

8

@[Mazikeen] ❤ hope this is cool!