The Sentinels the road to hell is paved with adverbs

there is only the faintest warning before the collision, and astaroth was deaf to it. instead of preparing for the oncoming force, he is taken off guard and goes stumbling forward a few steps, eventually landing face first and taking a nice bite out of the dirt. what in the hell?! he blinks a few times as he tries to regain his footing, both his mouth and rump now rather sore and taking up most of his attention.

when he finally turns to see what had attempted to plow him over, he realizes it is none other than the ghosted he'd caught a glimpse of earlier. a paw raises to rub at an aching jaw just before he slumps to the ground with a slight wince. "don't your brakes work?", he teases, his tone lacking any hostility that might somehow scare off his company. it seemed however that the boy took his jest the wrong way, and before astaroth had any chance to apologize, the ghost's figure disappeared like the phantom he resembled.