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Creepy song of the day
Oct. 23rd, 2010 02:12 pmRay Stevens has his problematic bits. But this song is brilliant.
Oct. 23rd, 2010
Snippet of the Day
Oct. 23rd, 2010 02:22 pmFrom "Miskatonic Mistletoe" available from Torquere Press
The Moon sang in Furball's blood, and once out of sight of men and their road, he sat back on his haunches and sang. He sang of power and hunting and running on four feet. He sang of her growing round and wasting to nothing before she grew again. Paul sat beside him, singing too.
As they finished, Dan bumped his head against Paul, wanting his alpha. A low rumble from nearby drew their attention. Something smelled old and dead, yet still moving. They stalked toward it stiff-legged, hackles raised, growling.
They were never sure later exactly what they had seen and smelled. But it had flown away before they could pounce.
Both wolves snorted the odor out of their noses. They cast about in ever-widening circles, looking for Corin's scent marks. Dan howled when he found it. Paul trotted up and sniffed, then obeying a male instinct older than time, put his own mark atop it. Dan marked a nearby tree, and they headed north and east, following the scent toward Corin and safety.
They found the old wolf in the woods south of the town of Arkham. Corin touched noses with them and licked them. They fanned out to hunt, hunger impelling them to search the woods for game.
Dan chased down a slimy, squealing thing and devoured it, its rank fishy flavor revolting him, and the oily flesh roiling in his stomach. He hated it from the first bite, but some primal instinct said it had to be eaten, that if he killed it, it would come back, or if he shredded it, the bits would all regenerate into new creatures.
He nibbled some dried grass, letting it take the foulness of the beast away. So much for local cuisine. He was lucky enough to find a couple of rabbits to settle his stomach.
As dawn approached, he followed Corin's scent marks to the back door of the Miska-tonics Herb and Tea Shoppe. Cian stood there, and he sniffed the elf. He smelled food in the background, meat and bread, and other stuff.
“You're late, pup,” Cian smiled. Dan slunk in, navigated the stairs and curled up next to Paul, in front of a fire that took off the December chill. As the sun rose, Cian tossed blankets over the three wolves before they could change into naked men.
The Moon sang in Furball's blood, and once out of sight of men and their road, he sat back on his haunches and sang. He sang of power and hunting and running on four feet. He sang of her growing round and wasting to nothing before she grew again. Paul sat beside him, singing too.
As they finished, Dan bumped his head against Paul, wanting his alpha. A low rumble from nearby drew their attention. Something smelled old and dead, yet still moving. They stalked toward it stiff-legged, hackles raised, growling.
They were never sure later exactly what they had seen and smelled. But it had flown away before they could pounce.
Both wolves snorted the odor out of their noses. They cast about in ever-widening circles, looking for Corin's scent marks. Dan howled when he found it. Paul trotted up and sniffed, then obeying a male instinct older than time, put his own mark atop it. Dan marked a nearby tree, and they headed north and east, following the scent toward Corin and safety.
They found the old wolf in the woods south of the town of Arkham. Corin touched noses with them and licked them. They fanned out to hunt, hunger impelling them to search the woods for game.
Dan chased down a slimy, squealing thing and devoured it, its rank fishy flavor revolting him, and the oily flesh roiling in his stomach. He hated it from the first bite, but some primal instinct said it had to be eaten, that if he killed it, it would come back, or if he shredded it, the bits would all regenerate into new creatures.
He nibbled some dried grass, letting it take the foulness of the beast away. So much for local cuisine. He was lucky enough to find a couple of rabbits to settle his stomach.
As dawn approached, he followed Corin's scent marks to the back door of the Miska-tonics Herb and Tea Shoppe. Cian stood there, and he sniffed the elf. He smelled food in the background, meat and bread, and other stuff.
“You're late, pup,” Cian smiled. Dan slunk in, navigated the stairs and curled up next to Paul, in front of a fire that took off the December chill. As the sun rose, Cian tossed blankets over the three wolves before they could change into naked men.