Ghouls took good care of his moths. They were his best friends, his confidantes. He trusted them more than he trusted anyone else in the whole swamp, and he would do anything for them. This included collecting saps and nectars for them to drink. Right now, he was crowded by them, wings fluttering out of sync, as he pulled together a few flowers for them to drink from. Bone-kisser, his right hoof, rested gingerly on his neck. He could almost hear her voice, a ghost of whisper from her spirit. He wanted to help them, to help all of the lost spirits in the moths. He just needed to find out how...
Ghouls had work to do still, and with the moths sated he could begin. Being this close to Mothborn territory, other moths would come soon, and they could watch him work as well. If they wanted. The deeper swamp was full of moths, and he loved the area for it. He laughed and took out his bones, his herbs, and began to sort his mystic materials, humming and listening to the thunderous sound of so many moths.
[imgleft]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... uncert.png[/imgleft]Star Dasher slowed his usual race at the sound of many fluttering of wings. Not that the sound was particularly uncommon - a bird here, a dragonfly there - but the volume of it, as many wings beat together and against each other. He turned in their direction, trotting with a quick but cautious gait, until he came across a magical site. He hadn't ever seen so many moths in one place at one time. His eyes lit with the fire of his wonder and curiosity as he watched silently. It took him longer than he would personally admit to realize that a kin - a kimeti - was mixed among the numbers. He watched how the buck revered these moths as much as he did the stars and he sat for a while to admire it. There was a beauty in devotion, he thought.
After a while he decided to venture out, taking one slow and steady step after the other as to not startle or antagonize the flying creatures. "Hello, friend," he called out, "Is it you that calls the moths to gather so?"
Ghouls turned his head to the sound. His moths fluttered a moment before they settled back in place. Resting or crawling, it was quite the sight to see him engulfed in his friends, bones at his feet.
"Ah..." Ghouls paused, awkward. He was unused to other kin, and sometimes found himself forgetting how to be a proper kin and communicate. The acha buck seemed curious, which was not a bad trait. Ghouls liked curious kin. "Well... I do not call them. I simply stay still, and they come," he said. He looked down, where he had gathered a treat for the moths to enjoy.
"But I do make myself someone they would like to be near. Do you admire them?"
