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An inferno writhed and danced before him, grimy smoke coiling in plumes to stain the sunset overhead. With firelight reflecting in his unblinking glare, Beck watched his makeshift firewood slowly shrivel and curl into blackened slivers. He always despised cigarette fumes, especially the few times he grew bored enough to bite down on a cancer stick. The poltergeist only caught glimpses of an unfamiliar face and through a little eavesdropping, he could place a name to the doecat. Sam, although it was most likely short for something more. Sam garnered his curiosity, or at least she would've if she didn't reek of ash and nicotine all the time.
Naturally, Beck slumped by his rancid fire, burning her stash with little expression shifting his scarred face. A bandaged paw covered his snout as he stifled coughs and wheezes -- admittedly, igniting the stolen cigarettes proved to be a horrible idea. Tossing the pile into a river or even the swamp would have spared him from the inevitable coughing fit he could feel tightening his blood-filled lungs. Unfortunately, a spark had already swelled into a volatile flame right outside his doorstep. Audrey III was joined at his side, too, albeit with a wide gap between its pot and the fire. It recoiled from the heat, its rows of formed teeth gritted and bared. Beck tilted his head to peer over his shoulder, watching Audrey for a beat before assuring himself that his friend was safe from the fire.
It would be a shame if his bonfire ended up a waste of his time. Using his free paw to retrieve a firepoker and a bag of marshmallows from his apparition -- it took a minute to fish around for the stashed supplies -- he ripped into the plastic bag, not bothering to check the expiration date. Impaling one of the treats on the firepoker and holding it over the fire as he observed others do, Beck settled back onto his bony haunches and waited in silence.
Naturally, Beck slumped by his rancid fire, burning her stash with little expression shifting his scarred face. A bandaged paw covered his snout as he stifled coughs and wheezes -- admittedly, igniting the stolen cigarettes proved to be a horrible idea. Tossing the pile into a river or even the swamp would have spared him from the inevitable coughing fit he could feel tightening his blood-filled lungs. Unfortunately, a spark had already swelled into a volatile flame right outside his doorstep. Audrey III was joined at his side, too, albeit with a wide gap between its pot and the fire. It recoiled from the heat, its rows of formed teeth gritted and bared. Beck tilted his head to peer over his shoulder, watching Audrey for a beat before assuring himself that his friend was safe from the fire.
It would be a shame if his bonfire ended up a waste of his time. Using his free paw to retrieve a firepoker and a bag of marshmallows from his apparition -- it took a minute to fish around for the stashed supplies -- he ripped into the plastic bag, not bothering to check the expiration date. Impaling one of the treats on the firepoker and holding it over the fire as he observed others do, Beck settled back onto his bony haunches and waited in silence.