02-27-2020, 12:25 PM
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A string of accented cursing jarred him from his accidental nap, his head smacking against the underside of a bench with the startled jerk upward. He hissed in pain, a bandaged paw rubbing at his scalp as he grimaced. He probably would feel a bump tomorrow, given his luck to bruise like a summer peach. The poltergeist puffed his intact cheek as though he tried to imitate a disgruntled bullfrog, an airstream whistling through the exposed teeth of the mutilated other. Whoever disturbed his sleep continued swearing to the heavens stood nearby, a grey four-legged blur against snowmelt and a... red rectangle. Next to a toppled one. Admittedly not the most bizarre scene he's witnessed.
Rearing his head -- this time wary of the decrepit bench he chose for shelter -- Beck slunk from beneath the snow-covered wood planks, nose twitching as he watched Leroy struggle against the fallen shape. As he drew closer, paws sinking into the slush and leaving a trail of polka dots in his wake, he could discern the details of a jukebox and a wagon. What would an antique like that be doing out here in the snow? "Hi, Leroy. Where are you going with that?" His stump of a tail drooped as he remembered the gossip overheard ages ago; the wolfhound was afflicted with cancer, wasn't he? He shouldn't be straining himself, he might pop a blood vessel.
Taking a shaky breath, the poltergeist inched closer, rasping gingerly, "I can... um, help you, if you'd like." Bold words from a scrawny housecat who trembled like a wilted leaf when a strong breeze shimmied by. Only for the feline apparition to dissipate into a gooey black, reshaping itself to a taller mass before an elk formed from the ooze, blinking down at Leroy. "Maybe get a rope or something and I can pull it? Y'know, like a- a horse or whatever." he wheezed, shrill voice remaining despite the body swap.
Rearing his head -- this time wary of the decrepit bench he chose for shelter -- Beck slunk from beneath the snow-covered wood planks, nose twitching as he watched Leroy struggle against the fallen shape. As he drew closer, paws sinking into the slush and leaving a trail of polka dots in his wake, he could discern the details of a jukebox and a wagon. What would an antique like that be doing out here in the snow? "Hi, Leroy. Where are you going with that?" His stump of a tail drooped as he remembered the gossip overheard ages ago; the wolfhound was afflicted with cancer, wasn't he? He shouldn't be straining himself, he might pop a blood vessel.
Taking a shaky breath, the poltergeist inched closer, rasping gingerly, "I can... um, help you, if you'd like." Bold words from a scrawny housecat who trembled like a wilted leaf when a strong breeze shimmied by. Only for the feline apparition to dissipate into a gooey black, reshaping itself to a taller mass before an elk formed from the ooze, blinking down at Leroy. "Maybe get a rope or something and I can pull it? Y'know, like a- a horse or whatever." he wheezed, shrill voice remaining despite the body swap.