02-25-2019, 11:45 PM
[align=center]action — "speech" — thoughts
[div style="background: linear-gradient(to right, #464C5A, #757f96, #464C5A); width: 500px; height: 2px;"]Nothing short of a public appearance had been made by the feline since the weighted burden of general had befallen on his attenuated shoulders. The sun had made its journey once and a little more around the sphere they called home, and a nose belonging to the likes of Crow emerged from a secluded cave near the sea as the sky began its transition to dusk. His starry eyes observed with melancholy the vermillion hues that danced across the plane as if to taunt him with its gleeful tones. Was it that the sky was more vivid tonight?
A raspy sigh escaped his lips, and he retreated back into the security of the cavern. It was useless to wonder. Crow didn’t believe in fate or karma; it was not a sign nor an omen nor the universe spitting into his eyes one more time for his misfortune, and as much it seemed that way, it was mere coincidence. He had control over his own actions and destination, and that ideal kept the tabby sane. He could and would get better, be better.
It would just take time
-----
A conversation held with Morgan in the previous had been bothering him, stuck to the back of his brain. During a time before Crow’s arrival to Tanglewood, on the full moon there was a squabble in the graveyard and those who succeeded were granted masks, and he wanted to know more. The rest was a history lesson he paid vague attention to. Names flew by his head and did not stick around long before they were lost. He knew it was important, though, something he felt to be preserved as long as he had some say over it.
Convenient that he did have a say over it. What better a person to go to than Beck, presumably the last Tangler in possession of one, for his answers, so he broke free from his slump, just for this night, to head out into the bog. It was dark, but his steps were guided by the faintest glimmer that penetrated from above the canopy.
He did not intend to intrude, but when his wary glances concluded Audrey was in no means of obstructing his path, the feline marched right up to the isolated poltergeist’s front door, where his keen voice spoke above the twilight cacophony of the swamp.
"I want a mask, Beck."
- ★ -