04-24-2018, 01:24 AM
He couldn't remember what it was like to dream. Hard to dream when he couldn't force himself to sleep. Restless ghost wasn't a term coined for nothing after all. His curse of insomnia was his excuse for aimlessly pacing the territory into the witching hours, but at least he had a task to busy himself with now. Scratching lines and shapes of various meaning into trees was tiring work, even for a demonic entity, spirits known for raking their nails down unwitting people's backs. More so, he was bored of clawing out symbols into the bark of surrounding trees, and long before Amunet stirred from her nightmares, Beck scaled a looming oak that was fortunate enough to overhang a commonly traverse path through the wetlands. Slumping and plopping his chin on his freckled arms, muddied flanks heaved with a deflated sigh. The boy chose to ignore the splinters caught in his paw pads from his carving, tracing out crude pictures of what he assumed were his peers with the tip of a worn claw.
His imaginary doodling was interrupted by the wailing roar, the sound ringing out over cypress canopies and pine tops, and startled the hell out of him. For a minute or two, he debated on investigating, burning gaze stretched wide and frightfully glancing around for the source. The choice was made for him, as two familiar felines crossed paths nearby his perch. After missing a jump from one branch to another, the mangy feline thudded against the mud a few feet away, a clumsy wheeze knocked from damaged lungs. He didn't get how cats managed to land on their feet and he couldn't yet. Brushing it off like he always did and gracelessly stumbling back up, Beck gave Amunet a once over. Based on Bella's stammering, he promptly put two and two together. Rather than being bewildered or in awe like Belladonna, he offered a bitter huff and bluntly asked, "Why can't ya flesh-bags stay in one body? Y'all keep switchin' 'round willy-nilly and I can't keep track of it." In typical fashion, his ashen lower lip stuck out with a childlike pout, scarred features crinkling to emphasize his distaste. Who cares if she wasn't fully mortal? She still have skin and a pulse, which meant any godliness was irrelevant to the skeptical spirit.
[align=center]»――➤His imaginary doodling was interrupted by the wailing roar, the sound ringing out over cypress canopies and pine tops, and startled the hell out of him. For a minute or two, he debated on investigating, burning gaze stretched wide and frightfully glancing around for the source. The choice was made for him, as two familiar felines crossed paths nearby his perch. After missing a jump from one branch to another, the mangy feline thudded against the mud a few feet away, a clumsy wheeze knocked from damaged lungs. He didn't get how cats managed to land on their feet and he couldn't yet. Brushing it off like he always did and gracelessly stumbling back up, Beck gave Amunet a once over. Based on Bella's stammering, he promptly put two and two together. Rather than being bewildered or in awe like Belladonna, he offered a bitter huff and bluntly asked, "Why can't ya flesh-bags stay in one body? Y'all keep switchin' 'round willy-nilly and I can't keep track of it." In typical fashion, his ashen lower lip stuck out with a childlike pout, scarred features crinkling to emphasize his distaste. Who cares if she wasn't fully mortal? She still have skin and a pulse, which meant any godliness was irrelevant to the skeptical spirit.