OOC: tralala
Shawchert, stood there staring at the thing, and the only thing that put Shawchert out of his trance was the Shriek that Skye let out. He put his hand on her shoulder, but it seemed to make her much more brave than he was, as she moved closer to the human. And picked up something. She hurried back and dusted it off. It was from the human. A personal item… well this whole house was probably the human’s personal item and whatever was in it belonged to them. But Shawchert believed that the dead didn’t own anything in the living world. He moved slowly to the bed, and took the blankets that were under the skeleton and wrapped it up, so that neither he nor Skye could see.
I’m afraid so, I’ll make a proper burial ground and make sure there’s no more in the other houses.
Shawchert said, looking at the bump inside the blanket, wondering how bad it had hurt the human to die the way he or she did. He knew there’d been a virus, something that had killed the humans and yet let wolves transform. He didn’t know if it was one of those things that killed slowly… like cancer, or quick and painless. It made him wonder. It made him think, and worst of all it scared him.
.shaw_flute .ooc {font-weight:normal; text-align:center; font-size:11px; padding:4px; color:#000000}
.shaw_flute .ic {font-weight:normal; text-align:left; font-size:11px; padding:8px; color:#ad8f42}
.shaw_flute b {font-weight:bold; color:#a66bb9; letter-spacing:1px; }
.shaw_flute {margin:0 auto; width:386px; background-color:#fdf589; background-image:url(http://img837.imageshack.us/img837/3093/shawbot.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 0px 0px 240px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:11px; color:#916e5e; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;}
</style>