i'm meaner than my demons, and bigger than these bones; any

[Ghoul]

Night comes crawling, and she crawls with it, gaunt and naked like the deciduous aspens shivering against the chill of new snow. She revels in the night - in the waning half light of dusk where gold, and orange-pink drain into colorlessness. She idles just within the confines of shadowy trees - waiting. Waiting until silver moonlight leaches away all that was left of the day. Then, she comes forth with eyes wide and haunting - with too quiet steps, and pitted ribs.  Ghoul is something other; a glimpse of the afterlife that no one seems to stay in.  Yet, she is corporeal in her sea salt skin (enough to fill the lungs with ocean), and the way her breath rises against the cold. There is, at least some warmth to her. She casts a long black shadow across the ruined, trampled blanket of snow. She glances at the spindly figure, legs too long, and body to short, when she sees another peeling from the trees to join to night.  She pauses, because this creature is like none she has ever seen, scarred and bare. If she would have had a mother worth a damn, perhaps she would have been taught not to stare. But, Ghoul is Ghoul; feral, uncouth, detached. There are reasons she chooses the night, reasons she lingers in the Meadow.  Her eyes, wide and gleaming white around the edges, rove the girl from deformed ears, to bare tail bone. Ghoul inadvertently flicks her own tail, as if to make sure it hasn't fallen off. Then gives a satisfied Hmph to feel it still there.  Ghoul moves closer, more intrigued than she should be, and borderline concerned for the girl’s lack of hair against the cold of night. “Hello.” she says, suddenly solidified into sinew and bone; suddenly real. She walks along with the (mostly) hairless mare, no longer staring. In fact, she isn't looking at her at all, but rather the cold mountain tops in the distance.  ____________________ g h o u l oceanus x mordgeld