Blackfeather Woods i want to live in fire

i made the assumption that they've made their way back to the woods. rolled an odd so scarab will suffer some hallucinations.

scarab's exploration of the woods that blackfeather truly calls home is slow, taken at a leisurely pace. a darkness permeates the woodland ...seen and unseen. scarab feels it in the slight shiver that slithers down his spine, but he is not repulsed by it. healed of his fever he has a new ...appreciation for the unexplainable darknesses of the world; because he has long since been one with it. since he'd made the decision without even a moment's hesitation to dine on the flesh of his own ilk; consumed even more by it with the after effects of the fever. it has left his body — in fact, though he is still hungry, he feels better than he has in a long while.

the visions and voices that sometimes plague him are a small price to pay for his life, for his restored health.

the skeletal vision that had once only haunted his dreams makes its appearance known now in the waking hours of the late morn, ember glow eyes boring thru him, as if scarab were the phantom. scarab watches from the corner of his eye as barebone muzzle inches past his own and then careens towards his own. swiftly and with disgust, scarab jerks his head away from the imagined touch of the spectre that haunts only scarab as the golden prince makes last minute berth around a tree he was close to slamming head-first into in his imagined distraction.

nanowrimo: 243