[PRP] Someone like me (Michi & Spork)

[Lenacatte]

The midday sun shone bright deep into the outskirts of a market town. Sebak liked that place. The locals were always happy, they had pretty things, yummy things and many others, which they gave to the visitors for those tiny rocks. From the little he'd gathered, tiny stones were very important, which was odd.

But he liked them too, since they glint in the day.

So he was sitting at the base of a tree, hunched over; some pieces of half-bitten bread and fruits at his side. He had a handful of the stones in one hand, the other carefully plucking some from the pile and holding them out to the sun, before placing them back and do it all over again. His blue friend always said it was funny, the grey one kept count and the purple one hated it... But that one never liked anything, he knew.  

[Phantom Spork]

Shay moves through the market streets with a cloak drawn over her features, in a poor and desperate attempt to hide the marks of her affliction- and perhaps appear somewhat… normal. Her life has seemed like nothing more than a delicate façade over the course of the last few years; ever since that unhallowed night.

There are many things one can adjust to and learn to accept; such as the chill that always lingers no matter where she steps, or the stares that come when her cloak slips. Even so, she had never learned to accept the stillness of death- the silence. The appalling realization that no breath lifts her chest and no heart sings a beating rhythm within her.

To try and forget the sensations of death she found herself always needing to move in a flighty fashion; never falling still and having to listen to the nothingness within her.

With a bag of bitter berries at her side- bought to try and remind her dead tongue that the world has a taste, she starts to walk to the town’s edge.
Passing a public courtyard just outside the town, she pauses and closes her eyes; caught for a moment in jealousy of the living creatures around her. She places a paw over her chest and starts to pat it in a rhythmic fashion- a heartbeat of her own creation.

When her pink eyes flutter open she glances to the meadow ahead, and takes notice of Sebak under his tree. She seems caught for a moment, realizing the aura of death and decay around him - she contemplates approaching.  

[Lenacatte]

He didn't notice her immediatly. It must've been because she was far away, or he himself was too absorbed into that simple action; Sebak's spirit companions caught sight of the female, each stopping their tracks and simply watched her warily, surrounding their mummified companion like a shield; with two at his sides, and the purple spirit above his bandaged body. They always knew that the undead, while similar in nature, were always unpredictable when encountering each other, and him so different to most for that particular reason had to be wary when meeting those of his same condition.

Which was something that he did as soon as he sensed her presence, both new and familiar. Some of his precious stones fell to the ground when his greyish body attempted to straighten itself. Even someone as him knew not to act unless provoked... After all, that was of the bad ones and he definitely wasn't like that.