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Post by » r e l i c on Jul 31, 2014 23:41:24 GMT
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A glowing moon hung high in the sky, offering its silver beams to the forest below. Fog filled the forest and rose into the air, creating an eerie feeling that could send chills down one's spine. A faint figure walked amongst the mist. It was a dog, or a ghost of a dog. A fragment of her former self, this spirit had no memory of her past life to guide her. She was a lost soul and she indeed was lost. Cinna's amber eyes scanned the terrain before her. Nothing looked familiar; not the trees nor the sky above them. This was a part of the forest the femme had never been to. A distant hoot, low and bellowing, sent Cinna running straight into a tree. Unlike other dogs who would crash into the rough barked trunk, Cinna merely passed through it. It was one perk of being a ghost. Nothing could harm her, let alone touch her. However, that fact did not comfort the anxious canid. Her head whipped side to side, eyes full of panic. Cinna was used to staying in a certain area. This ghost was no wanderer. And without the comfort of being "home", Cinna was left in a frenzy. Cinna felt herself calm, but only slightly as she realized the hoot was from a simple owl. The femme still felt on edge as she padded through the woods. The pillowy fog dispersed the farther she walked, and soon the transparent dog found her way to a clearer area. The night was silent, even crickets were too frightened to chirp. That silence was abruptly broken with a faint whisper. Cinna's sharp ears picked the voice up and she turned to face the direction of which it came. What... who is that? was her only thought. Contrast to her usual manner, Cinna was more curious than scared. Still, the wary femme cautiously took a few pawsteps back and lowered her head. Maybe whatever, whoever was there would pass by soon. Cinna silently prayed that her partially transparent tricolor fur would blend into the shadows. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Amount: 348 words. Notes: I did this in a hurry so it's kind bad. Sorry xP Muse: Moderate. Tags: Quirky Tea with Elliot; person with character
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Post by Quirky Tea on Aug 1, 2014 17:45:40 GMT
The night called his name. It was in the whisper of the wind. The shadows were big and alive, twisting towards him, and made his blood run hot with panic. The lights flickered and cars rumbled to life as he passed. It was no wonder that Elliot ran from town, into the woods, and into the silence. His body was a streak of translucent tan, his feet barely touching down on the ground.
The moon’s light sifted through the branches, but never reached the ground because of the thick fog. Elliot sped up as he saw the trees, running through them because he still felt pursued. He was panting hard, even though he needed no breath to sustain him any longer. Though he had no heart, he could feel it beating, feel his blood pulsing. He could hear only his breath. “C’mon, Ells, pull yourself together.” He knew it was all in his head. That the terror all followed him. The branches were gnarled claws reaching towards him in the slight breeze. Despite the fact that they would phase through him, Elliot dodged them as he ran deeper into the woods.
He found a place where the trees opened in a small clearing. Low growing plants were taking claim of this sanctuary. He looked up at the sky and saw the stars, glittering above him, and remembered another moment, like this. He remembered him and the boys on the run, taking solace under a bright night sky, and laughing openly. The fog started to thin. What did we do? What were we running from? Why was it so funny? He gave a reminiscent smile. “We must have been young,” he said aloud. When he realized where he was, he saw that the fog had cleared. In that moment, he saw a flash of light and shadow.
“Is… Is anybody there?” he asked. And he saw her white markings, barely visible from the deep shadows His feet made no sound as he moved across the clearing, towards Cinna. He couldn’t smell a dog, which alarmed him. This might be a figment of his imagination, playing tricks on him in the dark. But, Elliot knew that he didn’t want to be alone here, in the dark. And any chance of having someone sit with him through the worst of the night was a godsend. As he approached her, the white markings started making more and more sense until he saw her face and her amber eyes.
“Why, hello there,” he said. He wagged his tail, which was transparent in the night. Please be real. “My name is Elliot.” His own green eyes were kind, trying to coax her from her place in the shadows. He still felt his heart, as wild in fear as it would be if he were still alive, and he prayed, over and over in his head, Please be real. Please don’t kill me.
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Post by » r e l i c on Aug 1, 2014 19:23:21 GMT
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Only a few heartbeats passed, a few heartbeats that felt like eternity to the femme who nestled in the shadows. Besides the fact that her fur was transparent, it appeared to melt into the shadows, providing a good amount of camouflage. Cinna's ears perked as they strained to pick up the tiniest of sounds, but not a single one resonated. The night was dead silent. Only a single sign, a gentle puff of wind drifting by, defined the real world from a dream... or in fact, nightmare. The blooming terror inside Cinna began to vanish as it seemed she was safe. Without warning, the voice spoke again. It inquired as to who was there. Cinna, torn between answering the voice and staying hushed, chose to keep her silence and wait. In a split second, a form slowly broke free from the eerie veil of black. The thick cover of night masked the newcomer as it made it's way closer to Cinna. Her brows furrowed and glinting amber pools focused on the faint shape gliding through the misty air. Was this a dream? Her mind losing it's last grip on sanity? The puzzled femme peered closer with eyes like a cocktail of golden and burnt sienna. The stranger, fully out of the mist now, was clear as day besides the fact the he as well was transparent. Taken aback, Cinna tilted her head with an inquiring expression. Was he like herself? Impossible. She took a single step forward. If she were alive, the fallen dried leaves underpaw would've crackled under her weight. She could've felt the crunch and the texture of them. She was no longer alive now. No longer able to the the warmth of a dawning sun returning to shine on the earth, no longer able to feel a cool breeze along her fur. The pain of not being alive nor dead clouded her thoughts constantly. That all came rushing back to her as she faced this stranger, thinking, hoping, he was just like her. Not that she would wish this upon someone else. She just hoped that there would be someone who could understand. As the male approached her, he spoke and began wagging his tail. Cinna held back a smile, still unsure. "Hi, um... Elliot." Cinna replied. She spoke softly, as she was shy, but her voice was still silvery and held a honeyed tone. "My name is Cinna." She began wagging her own black tail, barely visible in the shadows, side to side. The slightly more confident ghost took a few steps forward, allowing the beams of moonlight to fall upon her ebony fur. She felt like asking, Where did you come from? But as it seemed a bit too pushy because she just met Elliot, she stopped after her name. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Amount: 466 words. Notes: none~ Muse: Okay-ish Tags: Quirky Tea with Elliot; person with character
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Post by Quirky Tea on Aug 1, 2014 20:08:11 GMT
Elliot’s plumed tail wagged faster. “Cinna, huh? That’s a beautiful name,” he said. He felt his fears almost immediately disappear like the fog had. He was pleased that he had met another ghost. He was pleased that there was someone else in his same predicament. It was almost the worst thing to be alone in a bad situation. The fact that she was pretty also made him feel a thousand times better.
He looked at Cinna and the fact that she was a ghost solidified that barely memory he had earlier. “I got it!” Elliot said. He laughed. “I remember now.”
He looked to Cinna, his olive eyes gave her soft contact. He wanted to share a suddenly recalled story with her before it faded away. And so, without much introduction, he began: “I had two good friends. We were like a family almost, with how tight-knit we all were.” His voice was warm and he made all the right gestures to add to the story. His head moved in small imperceptible ways that simply gave the story a more genuine feel. It felt like he was there, right now, in his head. “We were young. Yes, I think I was just shy of two years old, but one of the two I was with, named Fritz, he was very young, not even a year. We were teaching him pranks. We were all following this mastiff. He was a dark brindle with a voice like thunder. He had a temper, too, and the strength to kill dogs over it. I forget why we targeted him, specifically for this prank. But I remember we were pretending that we were ghosts.
“I would run through the forest, a flash of brown and white, and cast shadows and move the branches. Yuliss, the other dog I was with, would follow and watch the mastiff. And Fritz. Ah, Fritz. He would wail and holler and carry on like a banshee because he just hit that age where your voice goes funny and we almost got him, but Fritz got us laughing so hard that the darn mastiff figured it all out.
“We ran through the forest. We could hear him barking behind us. And we could hear him coming for us. Fritz swore that he could feel the dog’s hot breath on the back of his neck at some parts of the run, but…” Elliot laughed and shook his head. “Yuliss and I both knew that the kid was full of it. We kept running until we were panting so hard and we were safe. I just remember laughing so hard.”
He looked at Cinna with his smiling eyes, and recalled that he had been a little forthright in sharing this story. “I’m sorry. That was a bit sudden. I just… don’t remember everything since I died. And when I remember something, I have to tell someone.” He talked quite plainly about his death. It was easier to talk about it with another ghost.
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