( I'll paint you a picture / 'prank' )

[SLOAN.]

Prank was simply too strong for that which had been unknowingly set in motion. Possibly a misguided gift may be more fitting.

Early had arisen the vulpide, unexpected such occurrence for once such as hir with a deeply rooted nocturnal routine, bolstered by excitement. First experience with any such celebration that quickly closing in with each day that came to pass hir by and thus eager had ze grown to experience as much as possible, though miscommunication led to some odd outcomes. At the least harmless that which led ze to hir current objective.

Filled a basket with torn tissue paper, nestled within a selection of apples, some coated in chocolate, picked up from a certain smilodon, and others in more traditional toffee. About was also small jars filled with candies, though they were not to be the sweet treat one may expect. Without the sweet tooth many carried Sloan had grown a fondness for the sour side of things, projected upon others this love, at the least some were of a citrus flavour than being overly sour and may offer some respite.

Accompanied by another the journey was a rather easy affair, as far as the trip towards the shore situated group the return would be a matter all its own. Brief their halt as vegetation gave way, loam parting before sand through which rotted boards peeked, soon taken over entirely. Protesting groan announced each step ze made, hir skin left to prickle with discomfort at the sensation of the rotting material and the grating chorus. It seemed an eternity transpired before hir companion drew ze to an unsure halt, once more the sand arising forth at the base of stairs that seemed in better repair than that around them.

"Do you want to wait to give it to them."

Unspoken the quiet confirmation willing hir companion in simply leaving the gift here where it may be claimed rather easily without the need of their presence, slight the shake of hir head Sloan offered in response. And it was as such the basket, covered in a blanket to limit chance of scavengers picking at it, was left on the top step leading up to the boardwalk, atop a note perched and the pair already having begun their return journey. The note was simple, a few messy words scrawled across it in shakey lettering.

Happy Halloween, from Sloan Alithís Evgenis.

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Roundest moon flutters on the river, night bird song coasting through heat hangs for a moment there cascades slowly down the thick air, landing somewhere by my feet waking up bugs try to repeat, a fine night to feel light

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code by Wisker