Duck Lake a game you're gonna lose

She was not so ill-mannered to openly pick at the stranger's accent but it served to charm her, entertained by the way the word clipped awkwardly on his tongue. The word seemed quiet mundane to her, someone who had been raised in the 'common' tongue and the trivial lore that lacked much of it's own individual imagination. Pausing in thought, convinced he was not brazeningly threatening any longer, the slender girl shifted a paw that had been stuck under her and pulled forward so that she could perch her chin on her pastern. A ghost. She began, feeling the connection was right but not quite accurate, A physical ghost. An undead shell of a body, sometimes with a crazy appetite for brains. A morbid sense of humor caused her lips to part, teeth glinting in the low light in the shape of a subtle grin. Just as quickly as it appeared though, her smile dissolved, the tiniest hint of the upturned corners of her muzzle remaining, Sometimes I feel like a zombie. She confessed casually, Without the appetite.