Whitefish River Paranormal whacktivity

Yuda's eardrum pulsed at the detection of sound, yet his ears and eyes stuck to the positions they had already claimed. He recognized the voice that dodged in between the mist, although its momentum was slowed. The faintest glare cast from the forms of his face, and a few more wet steps were taken.

Originally, the juvenile did not once think of stopping until he noticed that he had. The male was stiff as stone. Yuda blinked once, and it was as if he snapped out of a spell cast upon him as he became hyper aware of the cling of the mist held by his tongue, the voice of the water that made him feel static, and the sense of the other male's location, wherever it would lie.

"Your best friend," peeled itself dryly from his throat and tossed itself into the air. Yuda's mind slipped to he belief that unnecessary words were a waste, and his mind shrugged in place of his own body, because that small action would have been a waste as well.