we like to party ;; open

Cyrus had never had what was known by most as the Sight. He only saw those ghosts that made themselves most obvious, not those that lurked in the ordinary world, only visible for those who were able to see them. So when he saw Hauntedpaw staring thoughtfully at what looked to be nothing but a patch of the forest, he was a bit confused. He stared at that spot for a few moments- still nothing but leaves- then spoke up.

"What are you watching?" He asked, blinking again in the thought that perhaps he just hadn't seen whatever it was yet.

She looked surprisingly happy- often Hauntedpaw seemed to have a tired look about her, like her thoughts were elsewhere. It was odd to see her so happy and relaxed.

"Ghost rabbits?" He remarked curiously, looking back at the place again. There was nothing there for him but the leaves. "I've never been able to see ghosts... how many are there?" The thought of the rabbits that they killed for food having spirits enough to be still wandering the territory was a bit unsettling- he never thought of them that way, they were just prey, creatures whose lives went to supporting the members of the Rift in their survival.

It was strange to think of prey as living on after death, thinking that there was ghosts right there, moving about. Playing, Hauntedpaw said. She looked happy about it, glad to be able to see them up so close. Cyrus figured that if they were still alive, they wouldn't have dared to play out in the open like this, not when there were hungry Rifters wandering the territory.

"Have you always been able to see ghosts?" Cyrus asked, curious. "I guess there's more wandering around the Rift than just rabbits, right?"

She'd been born with the Sight? That certainly was something. Cyrus' world was one distant from most ghosts and spirits, with only the phantom beings of gods being his link to any real form of spirituality. Hauntedpaw, however, was surrounded in it. Kits that went before their time... the thought of speaking to his own kits again, or his siblings, or parents... he'd hardly know what to say if he could have found their ghosts. Perhaps it was for the best that he didn't.

"Wow..." he murmured, her quiet calmness, like she didn't want to disturb the ghosts at their play, had carried on to him, too. "Have you seen many since you came to the Rift?"

A ghost that looked like Toxicwaste? Perhaps it was a relative of some kind, though he knew the Daremos were mostly wolves, in his experience. But seeing a striped feline with as unique of a pelt as Toxicwaste's was unlikely to be anything but a relative. A lost canine, a lonely kit... none of them seemed particularly happy.

"Huh. Was the one that looked like your dad a relative or something?" He asked, thoughtful. He often wished that some of his family would visit him in spirit form. But it had been that long since they'd passed, and he didn't have the Sight to know when they were close...