duskhound

[duskhound]

His tail wagged as she approached, mouth parted and tongue tip sticking out. When she kneeled a few paces away he eagerly closed the distance and nuzzled her outstretched hand.

“I am real,” he wanted so desperately to say.

All that came out in his plea’s stead was a whine and he pushed her hand away to sniff at her, licking her cheeks but leaving nothing but a cold sensation on her skin and laughter mingling with tears in the night air.

He sniffed at the old stone at her hip, tilting his head in curiosity with ears forward.

[The funeral was small.

People knew the middle-aged man in the village was important once; why, they did not know.

They buried him when his time had come—heartbreak, they had said was the cause—in a glen with a simple stone carved in Her likeness.

Over the years, visitors came and listened to stories of the Ghost Wolf seen only at dusk, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

He was aggressive around adults, but children could count on him for protection if they gave him treats.

Only one, maybe two adults could approach without fear of their safety; and one such visitor had appeared in his domain at dusk.]

@sacrosanctifiied

[duskhound]

He heard her before he saw her.

From the shadows, lounging on the roots of an oak, he lifted his tired head. Ears perked up and eyes that had once been empty and void of color glowed faintly in summer blue. Is it really you?

The once exhausted soul rose to his paws and pounced from the roots to the foliage below, daring to pace near the moonlight. He barked at her, hoping she would turn around, just one more time for him like all those years ago…

He stepped into the moonlight, ghostly lines painted in with black and white, and the faintest hint of the mossy green he once wore.

[The funeral was small.

People knew the middle-aged man in the village was important once; why, they did not know.

They buried him when his time had come—heartbreak, they had said was the cause—in a glen with a simple stone carved in Her likeness.

Over the years, visitors came and listened to stories of the Ghost Wolf seen only at dusk, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

He was aggressive around adults, but children could count on him for protection if they gave him treats.

Only one, maybe two adults could approach without fear of their safety; and one such visitor had appeared in his domain at dusk.]

@sacrosanctifiied

[duskhound]

[The funeral was small.

People knew the middle-aged man in the village was important once; why, they did not know.

They buried him when his time had come—heartbreak, they had said was the cause—in a glen with a simple stone carved in Her likeness.

Over the years, visitors came and listened to stories of the Ghost Wolf seen only at dusk, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

He was aggressive around adults, but children could count on him for protection if they gave him treats.

Only one, maybe two adults could approach without fear of their safety; and one such visitor had appeared in his domain at dusk.]

@sacrosanctifiied