Bearclaw Valley a ghost can speak dreadful things

let's pretend toad is creative LOL

There stood a great tree. Toad was no born naturalist, but that was something that would certainly be impressive to anyone- entangled roots hid spaces beneath them, and while some great branches stretched high upwards, others fell heavy to the ground with the weight of years and years.

Merrick looked to him, speaking of a name.

Toad's jadegreen gaze flickered back to the great tree, studying it for a moment. 

Omen... Omensong, Toad suggested in a murmur, shifting his focus back to his dark companion. The boy wasn't especially the edgy type, but he thought a name like this might appeal to his leader...