Blackwater Islands Soul clap through your last rites.

Maybe @The Listener?

His body was a tangle.

A discarded fishing net was half-buried by debris, having snared him around the middle and held tightly around one leg, almost fusing it with his tail.

Further along the beach sat a hemisphere of broken buoy - it looked to have been crushed by a log at some point. That was attached by a length of thick greenish rope, crusted with barnacles and smelling like iron, to a network of nets.

Most of the webwork was buried beneath fractures of feldspar and composites of sand; it could've been moored there for a few hours to a few years, given the scum that had built up across the lot of it.

Mou didn't see any of this. He didn't really feel it either, given that he was only barely awake. The sea had left him cold and empty as he'd wanted; he could not feel the way the net cut in to his skin.

His eye opened wide enough to see the red edges where the salt crusted them. He blinked and felt the burn of it, and then let out an unnatural moan — delirious, and dreadfully alive.

a strange thing nestled among the sands of the druids' grove. a spider's web grown fat on brine and kelp, drenched in the sea but no longer belonging to the spirits. a gift.

the listener picked through the sea's leavings with delicate weaving pawsteps and fleeting snatches of teeth to shift soggy brine-laden debris here and there. among the slumping jetsam mounds, something bone-white and wave-wracked stirred with faint life marked by a hollow moan. a creature snatched from the realm of spirits, aetherglow seeping between strands of fur like starlight while the blight of mortality stained it in patches. watery red tendrils crept from beneath the cutting embrace of the sea-web's thick arms and pooled around other wounds yet unseen through the whitewash effect of frigid waves against warm tender skin. a wolf, the listener saw by the half-shrouded shape of the figure, and stepped near enough to begin the tedious task of chewing through the tendrils of sea-web tangled around the pale visitor from the otherworld.

if she could stave off the wanderer's inevitable return to the realm of spirits, perhaps a message awaited her. some indication of how to move forward.

let me know if anything needs to be edited <3

The shadow came creeping in to his vision.

It was one of many; half of everything the wretched man saw was cast in perpetual darkness, and in his addled state he saw the slinking creature as more of the same, sweeping around his head; watching with those two-toned eyes.

He knew those eyes — Melonii eyes —

but could say nothing; only sob and gasp and let the salt in his lungs erupt as he cried, pitiful and lost.

You're poifect! Sorry mine is such a bleh!

the wolf watched her with an eerie stillness at first, before his silence shattered into gasps and sobs. the listener worked methodically to free the pale, wretched creature, until at last the strange webbing fell away from him. she stepped forward to loom over the revenant being, this wolf sent back from the realm of spirits. what secrets did he hold?

the listener dipped her head to seek his scruff. she would bring him to the speaker, and receive instruction on his care. then, he would belong to her.

harka. he would be called harka.

your posts are lovely <3 fade here and i'll get us a new one?

The spectre moved around his withered body to pick at the net, to free him, to help; but he lay there in shambles, throat hoarse, helpless. Unwilling to help himself.

Just let me die, his eyes begged.

And still the shadow plucked at the web that held him. Before long, so-called Harka would lose consciousness - lost to the black.

please!