long lost words || P-investigation group and Pad

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    Rumor had it that there was an unusual creature dwelling here in Blizzardclan. In today's world, unusual creatures weren't anywhere near as rare as they had been in the days of old, but that was why this group existed. Besides, something about this particular Blizzardclanner had piqued Spell's interest; he was a poltergeist. Regular spirits were a challenge to find in Spell's experience, most spirits seemed to choose an alignment too quickly to be proper investigated. This left a large blank section in group's library under the heading Specters, Poltergeists, and Unaligned Spirits. Now they had a chance to fill in that empty shelf with some original research. Spell moved soundless across the border and into Blizzardclan territory. He had disguised his scent carefully in strong-smelling herbs and anything that smelled of Blizzardclan to avoid getting traced back to Stormclan. He'd hate to get in trouble with Blazestar for this. Bluish eyes shone in the dark as Spell looked back towards his group. He had given them the run-down on this case before they set off and advised them to stay cautious; they had very little information on this particular spirit, so there was no telling how he might behave.


    pad.

    It was true that a certain poltegiest had taken residence in BlizzardClan, sick of being alone for five centuries. Or maybe by accident, but frankly, Pad mildly enjoyed it here. Enjoyed was a loose term, being in a clan meant responsibilities, gross. Somehow he had risen up the ranks to the lovely position of Paladin, which basically meant he was in charge of handling foreign and domestic business. Lucky him. So, he had been going on regular border patrols. Alone. Because why the hell not?


    Fortunately, his current patrol seemed to yield a group of various animals. That was uncommon, but whatever. He stalked forward, obviously indifferent towards the entire crowd, before giving the usual speech to visitors, ambassadors, joiners, et cetera. "Welcome to BlizzardClan, I'm Pad, what is your business here?" the ghost wheezed out after a yawn parted his jaws. He didn't appear to be undead from a single glance, but to a trained eye, there were a lot of off putting things about him. For one, he didn't have a shadow. Not to mention the subtle temperature drop.


    It was easier to think of Pad as a computer. His consciousness remained after death, and maintained enough emotional energy to project a seemingly physical apparation, and manipulate the environment around him in sync with his movements. The illusion of living was something he was quite skilled at, to the point where it wasn't even a thought process, it was just habit. With a rattling sigh, he leaned back on his haunches in the snow, giving his shoulders a roll to stretch them before he finished off his patrol.