Posts by MuffinTrees

That is completely fine! I totally understand how that goes ;)
And I think I'll post a bio anyway keep me entertained haha

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I purse my lips and let out a soft sigh through my nose. The same questions were asked, day after day. Did he never get tired of them? Did he never get angry that I never answered? I guess my general disdain for him kept me from ever actually considering why I never talked to him. And for some reason, today I genuinely tried to think about it.

My crossed arms relaxed and I let my hands fall to my lap as I ran my eyes over my fingers, silently searching for the reason why I never talked to him. First off, I never really talked to anyone, not even others like me. I sometimes spoke to Easton, but it was only ever a quiet hello or a weak smile. Ever since I had died, I'd just been pissed, I guess. Not really at anyone in particular, just the world in general. My life was cut short before I'd even gotten finished with my first semester of college, and I'd never get to do the things I'd wanted to. And instead of passing on to a "better place," I was stuck here for some reason. Not here on this bench, but here on Earth. And I guess that's enough to make anyone mad at the world and everyone in it. It just plain wasn't fair.

Of course, I kept these thoughts to myself, but cast a quick glance at Jake, his kind gaze both prying and somehow comforting. How long had I been ignoring him? A year maybe? Since last spring, at least. Now was as good a time as any to answer him, and I didn't see him relenting anytime soon. "I don't really know," came my answer after another moment of silence. It felt odd to hear myself speak, almost as though I had forgotten the sound of my own voice.

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I roll my eyes and offer a wry smile. "Well, I had to get you off my case somehow," I say, my tone a mix of sourness with a touch of teasing. Perhaps his efforts at whatever sort of friendship a ghost and a human could have will rub off on me eventually. But for now, I'm content to be discontent with my situation and angry at no one and nothing in particular.

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Jasper sat crouched in the underbrush, his keen eyes easily following the movement of a rabbit as it approached his hiding spot. He knew he was dangerously close to werewolf territory, if not a tad within their borders, but this wasn't the first time he'd courted danger. The small brown rabbit continued towards him, blissfully unaware of its fate.

In one quick motion, he had the rabbit in his hand, deftly snapping its neck. Of course, a twinge of pity showed on his face. Though he needed blood to survive, he wasn't one to kill for sport and generally disliked having to kill even the smallest of animals. Just as he raised the rabbit's limp body to his mouth, a slight movement caught his eye.

A wolf emerged from the underbrush, and he cursed under his breath. The way it glared at him and curled its lip in a deep growl assured him it was a werewolf. He returned the glare, but put both of his hands up, still holding the rabbit. He was silent, waiting to see if the werewolf would make the first move.

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I stand up, swinging my arms loosely at my sides as I watch people go by, my hands gliding through them without so much as a hesitation in their stride. "Since I answered your question," I say, though it wasn't really an answer, "you have to answer one of mine." I turn to face him and shove my hands into my pockets as a dog trots past. "Why do you insist on bothering me every day?" My question was certainly pointed, but I was genuinely curious. Why was it so important to him that he get me to talk?

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Jasper felt his breath rush out of him as the wolf knocked him to the ground. He could feel the pressure of its claws digging into his shoulders, but oddly felt no pain. He still tightly grasped the rabbit in his hand, unwilling to give up his prize. As the werewolf's teeth neared his face, he bared his own fangs and, with a grunt, brought up his knee to catch the wolf in the ribcage, attempting to knock it off of him, or at the very least get if off balance enough to scramble out from under it.

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Jasper was able to get to his feet, although a definite ache immediately made itself present at the base of his ribcage. Had the werewolf caught him with a paw as he pushed it off? He gave a slight shake of his head and refocused, narrowing his eyes as he brandished his fangs once again. Though he was no killer, he wasn't one to give up in a fight, and would certainly fight this werewolf to the death if he had to. But he hoped it wouldn't come to that. Although the vampires and werewolves detested one another, they lived in relative peace by simply avoiding one another. If he were to kill one, there would undoubtedly be terrible consequences.

"You're going to risk your life for a meager rabbit?" he taunted, a sneer plastered across his face. "I didn't know you beasts were so bad off!" He tossed the rabbit at the wolf, hoping it would give it reason to back off, despite how unlikely that seemed.

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"Wait," I find myself saying. I don't know why I asked for his hesitation, but maybe some part of me was ready to let go of a least a piece of the anger I was holding onto. I felt my shoulders slump as I tried to think of a way to apologize. I can't think of anything other than the words outright, "I'm sorry, I'm just..." I stop for a moment, kicking at the path with the toe of my shoe. "No one wants to die, and I guess I'm just upset because I did." It feels odd talking about being dead, but not in the way you'd expect. I've been dead for a few years now, and it's just part of what I am now. But just saying it so plainly, especially to someone who's still alive, just feels weird. I'm sure my face shows it, and I duck my head in embarrassment.