Take you to the grave, I'll ghost
——————————Gravel shuffled forward, her steps sluggish, tail dragging behind her like a corpse clawing free from the grave. A thorned branch clipped her shoulder, but she barely blinked. A twitch was all it would get from her.
She stopped a respectable distance from the scented line. Her ruined eye stared ahead like a porch light long since gone dark. The other, pale and intense, flicked about the shadows. The mire beyond stank of wet fur and decomposition, not a tasteful combo, but she wasn't there for comfort.
Her shoulders rolled, haunches sinking into the sopping ground. Soon after, a cough caught in her throat, sharp and gravelly. She stifled it with a clenched jaw until the itch died somewhere deep in her chest.
Mother had spoken of their father with loathing. Bitter to her final, rattling breath. He was a shadow in the doorway, a ghost in the wind. All she'd ever known was that he was dark-furred and, as her mother delicately put it a 'fox-hearted bastard'.
She didn't know what to expect. Would he accept what she had to say? Would he even believe her?
Truth be told, she could've located him sooner, but she struggled to even find a point in doing so. From what she was told, it seemed he held little interest in staying to raise them. Gravel didn't share her mother's bitterness, and she couldn't have cared less to know his reasons.
Stranger he may be, Charcoal was still her father, and with her mother buried and siblings gone, she had little else.
She stopped a respectable distance from the scented line. Her ruined eye stared ahead like a porch light long since gone dark. The other, pale and intense, flicked about the shadows. The mire beyond stank of wet fur and decomposition, not a tasteful combo, but she wasn't there for comfort.
Her shoulders rolled, haunches sinking into the sopping ground. Soon after, a cough caught in her throat, sharp and gravelly. She stifled it with a clenched jaw until the itch died somewhere deep in her chest.
Mother had spoken of their father with loathing. Bitter to her final, rattling breath. He was a shadow in the doorway, a ghost in the wind. All she'd ever known was that he was dark-furred and, as her mother delicately put it a 'fox-hearted bastard'.
She didn't know what to expect. Would he accept what she had to say? Would he even believe her?
Truth be told, she could've located him sooner, but she struggled to even find a point in doing so. From what she was told, it seemed he held little interest in staying to raise them. Gravel didn't share her mother's bitterness, and she couldn't have cared less to know his reasons.
Stranger he may be, Charcoal was still her father, and with her mother buried and siblings gone, she had little else.
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I know I can be so cold