#same week

She eyes the possum in his grip. Her ears are pricked forward, as she licked her lips. When was the last time, that she got something fresh?

[ *looks at the fidgeting possum* ]

[ *looks back at the salivating mare* ]

【𐂃】 ❝ ummm — how 'bout some Hell carrots or apples? Hell hog meat? This can't be edible... I know they say it's clean but I'm not willin' t' risk that! — these things rummage in GARBAGE! Sorry, Twinkle, I'll get ya' somethin' else. ❞

* with shea / @tigerprinthunter.

Angelo lost his beret. The guilty suspect? The shivering gust of the day. The artist followed after it. And guess where it went? That’s right. Deep down in the Fugue Forest. One would think he would have learned his lesson last three days ago—but that beret meant the whole world to him! 

Monsters could try to take a bite out of him or witches could try to hex him—but none of them could terrify him! At least, not now. Angelo figured from his last experience in getting lost at the Fugue Forest was proof that not everyone living in the woods was considered to be a primal savage. Someone will help him find his way back! With Angelo’s strong sense of optimism, he couldn’t be bothered to leave some sort of trail for him to follow back as he was in a hurry to catch up with his beloved hat. The artist walked around and eventually, he spotted a figure lingering beneath the canopies of high trees. A man? Perfect.

*cough* Pokemon *cough*