It had been a long, hard few months. He couldn't decide if he felt better or worse about being a monster out in public. About being known about. The green cast of his skin and his long weedy hair marked him as a waterhorse and everyone in Bavon who had a brain in their head made sure to steer clear of him in the rain.
Rain. Something it hadn't done in a while, not really since winter set in right and proper. Maurice was starting to feel a weird nagging feeling--a different one from the budding hunger that had sprouted in the back of his head. He needed to be near water. The hotel room tub just didn't do it for him, even now that he could properly fit in it. He hand't been this thin since he was eighteen years old and he wished he felt better about it. Instead when he saw himself in shop windows, he saw a stranger with loose skin and baggy eyes.
He needed to get out of the city.
And so he walked, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around himself, boots dragging in the slush one foot in front of the other. And he walked that way for...he couldn't even remember. He didn't even remember what day he'd set out. If Ryslig birthed zombies, he would have been a dead ringer for one as his shuffling footfalls echoed across the lake's surface. Maurice's ears twitched at the sound of birds. He hadn't realized he'd been missing that in Bavan. The trees smelled nice--damp bark, decaying leaves. Maybe this was where he was meant to be.
Then he rounded a large birch that leaned over the water's edge and beheld...some bullshit.
For the first time in months, Maurice Hutch's ears stood STRAIGHT UP and he let out a little squealing snort. It actually took him several hot seconds to process what he was seeing. Maybe if Fiddleford's head was more snake-like and less human-like, it'd be easier to digest. Haha. But no. The Kelpie froze with his breath caught in his throat.
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Rain. Something it hadn't done in a while, not really since winter set in right and proper. Maurice was starting to feel a weird nagging feeling--a different one from the budding hunger that had sprouted in the back of his head. He needed to be near water. The hotel room tub just didn't do it for him, even now that he could properly fit in it. He hand't been this thin since he was eighteen years old and he wished he felt better about it. Instead when he saw himself in shop windows, he saw a stranger with loose skin and baggy eyes.
He needed to get out of the city.
And so he walked, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around himself, boots dragging in the slush one foot in front of the other. And he walked that way for...he couldn't even remember. He didn't even remember what day he'd set out. If Ryslig birthed zombies, he would have been a dead ringer for one as his shuffling footfalls echoed across the lake's surface. Maurice's ears twitched at the sound of birds. He hadn't realized he'd been missing that in Bavan. The trees smelled nice--damp bark, decaying leaves. Maybe this was where he was meant to be.
Then he rounded a large birch that leaned over the water's edge and beheld...some bullshit.
For the first time in months, Maurice Hutch's ears stood STRAIGHT UP and he let out a little squealing snort. It actually took him several hot seconds to process what he was seeing. Maybe if Fiddleford's head was more snake-like and less human-like, it'd be easier to digest. Haha. But no. The Kelpie froze with his breath caught in his throat.