08-11-2024, 04:19 PM
Recognizing social cues wasn't the ghost's strong suit. He had spent a majority of his life alone, and what little experience he did have with others was plagued with deception, greed, hatred, or all of them combined. He knows not to trust this mare - her alluring gaze, her fluttering wings, her beauty (of which he has little experience with). However, Beetlejuice was never the most perceptive stallion, and the suggestion of her watching him kill something sends a pleasant tingle down his spine.
The ghost's snarl turns to a sickening grin, and he laughs that awful, howling cackle. He glances down to the blood pooling around his hooves, and then towards the rock that covers his kill. He flicks his head, bringing the boulder off the squirrel and throws it to the side. The poor thing, having been smashed multiple times, lays pitifully flattened in the leaves.
"Well, my dear," He starts, looking back to her through piercing eyes. "It looks as if this specimen is...inadequate, for a girl like you..."
He moves suddenly, darting into the treeline, circling her as if she is his next target. Perhaps one day she would be...but for now, he derives a sick pleasure from her suggestions. He lets out another haunting cackle, and it echoes around the still forest, surrounding them with the sickening hum of his laughter. He pops his head through a thick patch of hawthorn, close to where she waits. He tilts his head, staring at her.
Beetlejuice's next words are quiet, an evocative whisper, beckoning her further into the woods with him. "...but I'd be happy to provide you a new kill."
beetlejuice
@kalika