06-10-2018, 04:53 AM
As much as Beck feared water, he didn't mind the rain too much, shockingly. Rainstorms wouldn't hold him under even as he thrashed and sputtered for air. What he did mind about thunderstorms rolling in was possible flooding. One minute he could be idling down a dry mudbank, the next perched haphazardly on a lone island of unscathed roots as a flash flood whizzed everything else by. So naturally, the poltergeist spent the night cowering from sight, for once locking himself in the storage unit once a home for a saner creature. He didn't like being cooped up indoors, unable to obsessively stalk the borders or check his traps or even hover over his dreaming clanmates like he was so used to doing now. All he could do was pace around his collection of worthless mementos and fidget with only a gluttonous fly trap for company.
Before his anxiety could bubble over and spill into a nervous breakdown, a welcomed morning parted the worst of the rainclouds by some amount of a miracle. Audrey wasn't too keen on letting the poltergeist abandon him without breakfast, however. After persistent tugging at his ankles and fur with prehensile vines, Beck surrendered and scooped up the makeshift pot by its handle, scrambling through his storage unit's only entrance -- an ajar window -- and stalking off into the undergrowth. It was difficult to hunt with a bucket containing an eager fly trap bouncing in his jaws, yet he hoped something would at least turn up in his traps. Ignoring the sounds of his peers stirring and beginning their patrols around him, it took a few tries of various traps strung up throughout the territory before Beck found a catch remotely substantial for a growing plant. A frog snagged by a crude mousetrap mimic, four eyes bulging out of its skull and exposing its corrupted genes. Not that the poltergeist cared, robotically prying back the mousetrap to free the mutated frog only to toss it into Audrey's open trap, where after more than a few trigger hairs were brushed, began to close around the plump breakfast.
Now that Audrey wasn't demanding for food, where was everyone headed? Inky nose twitching for any foreign scents the rain didn't wash away, his wheezing sniffs turned up nothing. What was all the commotion about then, if there wasn't a trespasser? Gripping Audrey's bucket handle once more, he found himself choosing the only option left: following after them in hopes of something to do. Creeping through foliage with a surprisingly swift limp, his split brow furrowed at the tail-end of Amunet slipping into the seemingly normal barn, along with the clashing scents of Fenris and Freyja. He could only question what was so interesting about a rundown barn as he trailed after, Audrey III too concerned with its meal to mind the jostling of Beck's hurried gait. Pushing aside a barn door with a bony shoulder, noting that he remembered the doors to be closed when he last checked, the mangy feline gave a disgusted snort at the curled-up heap of grey fur in the hay. Setting Audrey and its bucket down, the poltergeist moved to loom over Suriel like everyone else as Freyja woke her up so he could chase her out of their barn.
But something shiny caught his eye. Features still set into an angered scowl, frigid paws were quick to snatch up her belongings, dragging them aside in order to investigate them. The camera's archaic design was vaguely familiar to his memory, flipping it around in his paws so the lens faced him. An accidental twitch causing it to snap a picture with a blinding flash, Beck dropping the old thing onto the splintering floorboards to viciously rub at his eyes. Unfortunately, the camera failed to capture a photograph of paranormal evidence, no apparition at all in front of the barn's rotting ceiling rafters whatsoever. The notebook was the next object of interest, the boy quickly tearing through its smudged pages on a witchhunt for any personal information scribbled down -- as if he would even be able to read it. Nothing. But one sketch caught his attention; the impressive reconstruction of a recognizable four-eyed amphibian. The poltergeist rotated the notebook and held it up close to his face for a better view, glancing down at Audrey with a wrinkled nose. Apparently the stranger had crossed paths with the frog currently being digested in Audrey's, for lack of a better term, mouth. Beck gave his lantern-like eyes a dismissive roll before returning to the sketchbook, flipping through the pages even after Suriel came to.
[align=center]»――➤Before his anxiety could bubble over and spill into a nervous breakdown, a welcomed morning parted the worst of the rainclouds by some amount of a miracle. Audrey wasn't too keen on letting the poltergeist abandon him without breakfast, however. After persistent tugging at his ankles and fur with prehensile vines, Beck surrendered and scooped up the makeshift pot by its handle, scrambling through his storage unit's only entrance -- an ajar window -- and stalking off into the undergrowth. It was difficult to hunt with a bucket containing an eager fly trap bouncing in his jaws, yet he hoped something would at least turn up in his traps. Ignoring the sounds of his peers stirring and beginning their patrols around him, it took a few tries of various traps strung up throughout the territory before Beck found a catch remotely substantial for a growing plant. A frog snagged by a crude mousetrap mimic, four eyes bulging out of its skull and exposing its corrupted genes. Not that the poltergeist cared, robotically prying back the mousetrap to free the mutated frog only to toss it into Audrey's open trap, where after more than a few trigger hairs were brushed, began to close around the plump breakfast.
Now that Audrey wasn't demanding for food, where was everyone headed? Inky nose twitching for any foreign scents the rain didn't wash away, his wheezing sniffs turned up nothing. What was all the commotion about then, if there wasn't a trespasser? Gripping Audrey's bucket handle once more, he found himself choosing the only option left: following after them in hopes of something to do. Creeping through foliage with a surprisingly swift limp, his split brow furrowed at the tail-end of Amunet slipping into the seemingly normal barn, along with the clashing scents of Fenris and Freyja. He could only question what was so interesting about a rundown barn as he trailed after, Audrey III too concerned with its meal to mind the jostling of Beck's hurried gait. Pushing aside a barn door with a bony shoulder, noting that he remembered the doors to be closed when he last checked, the mangy feline gave a disgusted snort at the curled-up heap of grey fur in the hay. Setting Audrey and its bucket down, the poltergeist moved to loom over Suriel like everyone else as Freyja woke her up so he could chase her out of their barn.
But something shiny caught his eye. Features still set into an angered scowl, frigid paws were quick to snatch up her belongings, dragging them aside in order to investigate them. The camera's archaic design was vaguely familiar to his memory, flipping it around in his paws so the lens faced him. An accidental twitch causing it to snap a picture with a blinding flash, Beck dropping the old thing onto the splintering floorboards to viciously rub at his eyes. Unfortunately, the camera failed to capture a photograph of paranormal evidence, no apparition at all in front of the barn's rotting ceiling rafters whatsoever. The notebook was the next object of interest, the boy quickly tearing through its smudged pages on a witchhunt for any personal information scribbled down -- as if he would even be able to read it. Nothing. But one sketch caught his attention; the impressive reconstruction of a recognizable four-eyed amphibian. The poltergeist rotated the notebook and held it up close to his face for a better view, glancing down at Audrey with a wrinkled nose. Apparently the stranger had crossed paths with the frog currently being digested in Audrey's, for lack of a better term, mouth. Beck gave his lantern-like eyes a dismissive roll before returning to the sketchbook, flipping through the pages even after Suriel came to.