A somber ghost and her lumbering shadow.
Kota, a mother, is the first to notice the patter of a child’s gentle feet. And then his voice, precious, soft and small – her heart palpitates in her hollow chest and her breath holds for a moment. Chem’s rough muzzle taps her hip, his white whiskers bending against her sleek hair as he applies only a small amount of pressure. When he slowly withdraws his nose he bears his usual grin and his eyes keep with the mother. Kota’s bright blue eyes barely notice the mother’s sharpened edges against the dim light of the night.
“Resting.” The ghost’s voice rolls out like warm honey. “And what are you doing in the dark?” Kota’s tone is not threatening, but playful. Her father’s chuckle boom behind her and she’s relieved that is all he offers to the interaction for now. He is a bit of a zealous man, her father, and sometimes (most times) it is unwelcome.
Kota
those great whites,
they have big teeth
@[Nashua]
