08-03-2018, 05:59 PM
It was just yesterday when Leroy joined Tanglewood, a deplorable bunch, to which just about everybody had a problem or two. To his revelry, he discovered not all of the territory was a god-awful swamp; there was also a forest, a shore, some big crater, and human establishments like a junkyard, a farm, and even a town. During the remainder of yesterday’s hours, he found himself a nice house, explored the place for a bit, and rested. Greatness comes from humble beginnings, everybody knows that.
Aside from the marsh’s smell, the wolfhound was quickly adjusting to this new place. He just loved the “old 60’s” aesthetic to it, the cats, the buildings, everything. The people here were interesting, to say the least. There was those weird masks that people wore, all the addictions to different substances, and talk of the leader being a ghost. A few of those guys looked like they had some secrets, perfect for a person like Leroy. This is the commencement of something great. Once he had enough people on his side, all would be his in no time at all.
On the other hand, he could actually enjoy his time here. These folks were just his kind of people, agonizing over life’s problems and such, and this place’s leader was probably no different. Speaking of which, where was this place’s leader? He hadn’t seen him the day before, which was disappointing, as Leroy expected something similar to a formal welcome, as it should be expected for someone new to something. Again, he had heard that this guy was a ghost; did that mean he was impossible to kill? What about his mind, was that still in place? Curiosity enlivened the tall canine. Just yesterday, he had seen a dragon for the first time, what if he were to see a spirit today?
He sat his mangy rump beside what was once a statue. Thinking too much made him tired, and it scared him that he had much more to think about, as in, “what’s being eaten for lunch?”, and “what am I going to do today?”. Later. For now, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and inhale the questionable air coming from the swamp.
Aside from the marsh’s smell, the wolfhound was quickly adjusting to this new place. He just loved the “old 60’s” aesthetic to it, the cats, the buildings, everything. The people here were interesting, to say the least. There was those weird masks that people wore, all the addictions to different substances, and talk of the leader being a ghost. A few of those guys looked like they had some secrets, perfect for a person like Leroy. This is the commencement of something great. Once he had enough people on his side, all would be his in no time at all.
On the other hand, he could actually enjoy his time here. These folks were just his kind of people, agonizing over life’s problems and such, and this place’s leader was probably no different. Speaking of which, where was this place’s leader? He hadn’t seen him the day before, which was disappointing, as Leroy expected something similar to a formal welcome, as it should be expected for someone new to something. Again, he had heard that this guy was a ghost; did that mean he was impossible to kill? What about his mind, was that still in place? Curiosity enlivened the tall canine. Just yesterday, he had seen a dragon for the first time, what if he were to see a spirit today?
He sat his mangy rump beside what was once a statue. Thinking too much made him tired, and it scared him that he had much more to think about, as in, “what’s being eaten for lunch?”, and “what am I going to do today?”. Later. For now, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and inhale the questionable air coming from the swamp.