Wither Rose
#20
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Real fear, despite his quick brush with death in the sea, was still a fairly foreign feeling for him. At best, he would find himself uncomfortable or creeped out as had been the case with the strange red wolfess he'd met once in the city. And as was the case now with the portrait of the dead human family watching canines prowl through their abandoned home. He didn't really think he would care too much if people combed through his house after he'd died, but he also thought that he might feel differently when he was older or after he had lived in a house that was more his than his brother's. Trying to shrug the ghostly presence from around him, he nodded and turned around, Yeah, let's find a different place.



The relief was almost immediate when the stepped outside again. The air was cooler and fresher, free of the spirits or whatever else -- dust and mold -- that had filled the house. Maybe the next street? Arkham wasn't sure if all the houses would have the same eerie presence as the one they'd just left, but he hoped not. It would be sad if they were chased from building to building by things they couldn't see. These were all different from the house back home though. Maybe it had been done by wolves, but their house had not been built by people at least. All the same, he'd heard plenty about wolves and coyotes moving into human dwellings, and so what was stopping them? He paused at the corner of the street and turned back, waiting for Rachias to catch up.
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