Blacktail Deer Plateau the ghosts were howlin' in the late afternoon
i was born to the witch boleyn
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Ooc — ebony
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#12
fading!

eventually he followed the pair, the burnt loam clinging to his paws, his fur, his hackles. it assaulted his nostrils with its empty scent, and clung wearily at his heart. in time he would give up the lingering ghost of the hunt and return to lie at blue willow's feet, but for now he must maintain the veneer of strength, for those who followed.
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RE: the ghosts were howlin' in the late afternoon - by Lasher - July 30, 2015, 01:05 PM