There was nothing. A deadening sensation all too familiar to the man. Crossing over between the planes always had been a bothersome effort, yet didn't require too much strain after practice. Nothing surrended its grip as he forced himself through the threshhold to blinding display of light and shadow, of color and texture. Life. A fickle creature, it was; refusing to be contained in mere brickerbrack and always slipping from his blackened touch. Yet life enveloped everything here, teasing him with its abundance in sharp contrast to the stagnant realm of afterlife he became so accustomed to.
Through tinted lenses, the gleam of white caused his still heart to plummet -- had he failed? What did he do wrong this time? Cold seeping through the leather of his gloves underfoot quickly scattered his doubts. He tentatively raised a front paw to view the frozen substance clinging to his palm -- or, he supposed he should use animal vernacular now that he adapted to their population. The white was snow, just snow. A rather barren landscape, broken only by the recent tracks of passerby He let out a bemused huff from behind a beakful of herbs as he settled himself into the powdery ice, allowing himself to process the new surroundings for a minute or two.
The cloaked figure jutted out of the pristine landscape like a flea on a rodent's back, a spilled blot of ink against parchment. He didn't belong, as expected. Isaac could be known as a harbinger of death, a condemner of entire villages to inescapable disease, a physician of malpractice and miasma. A plague doctor. Wax-leather overcoat gathered around his spindly frame and the snow, the dark folds obscured any identifiable features of the creature, leaving only a milk-white face shadowed by a wide hat's brim to coldly regard the world. Although, his new appearance underneath the uniform was rather uncomfortable. Minor alterations wouldn't harm anyone. Isaac reached behind his mask and under the fabric, slipping out droopy ears into sight and giving them a shake before moving onto freeing a thin tail with a couple of tears. Intimidating as his outfit may have seemed, Isaac was nothing more than a hound. Well, a hound returned from the grave, not in flesh and bone, but rather spectral energy. Satisfied with his adjustments, the doctor leaned back on his haunches, a muffled sigh causing his chest to relax as he tipped his head back, content to bask in the minimal sunlight of wintery days for now.
[align=center]☤Through tinted lenses, the gleam of white caused his still heart to plummet -- had he failed? What did he do wrong this time? Cold seeping through the leather of his gloves underfoot quickly scattered his doubts. He tentatively raised a front paw to view the frozen substance clinging to his palm -- or, he supposed he should use animal vernacular now that he adapted to their population. The white was snow, just snow. A rather barren landscape, broken only by the recent tracks of passerby He let out a bemused huff from behind a beakful of herbs as he settled himself into the powdery ice, allowing himself to process the new surroundings for a minute or two.
The cloaked figure jutted out of the pristine landscape like a flea on a rodent's back, a spilled blot of ink against parchment. He didn't belong, as expected. Isaac could be known as a harbinger of death, a condemner of entire villages to inescapable disease, a physician of malpractice and miasma. A plague doctor. Wax-leather overcoat gathered around his spindly frame and the snow, the dark folds obscured any identifiable features of the creature, leaving only a milk-white face shadowed by a wide hat's brim to coldly regard the world. Although, his new appearance underneath the uniform was rather uncomfortable. Minor alterations wouldn't harm anyone. Isaac reached behind his mask and under the fabric, slipping out droopy ears into sight and giving them a shake before moving onto freeing a thin tail with a couple of tears. Intimidating as his outfit may have seemed, Isaac was nothing more than a hound. Well, a hound returned from the grave, not in flesh and bone, but rather spectral energy. Satisfied with his adjustments, the doctor leaned back on his haunches, a muffled sigh causing his chest to relax as he tipped his head back, content to bask in the minimal sunlight of wintery days for now.