#//also yes im avoiding spreadsheets 🤷‍♀️

[clownpool]

the tiny bullet sized hole in the upper left hand corner of one of his worn wings created a nice little beam for the final rays of purple and orange sunlight as the bat continued to flutter behind her. his adventures were now scars left upon his appendages that would seemingly weigh the tired and sun bleached bat. yet Marshall Lee was determined as ever to keep up with his friend, and stubborn enough to give that sunset a proverbial and impractical fuck you with the incessant and entirely graceless flapping of his wings. even in his familiar form, the sun would curse and spit upon his very essence. it would weaken the icarus who was too stubborn to feel singed wings burn and crisp.

he imagined that salt lined shores would feel nice in his toes. he was almost jealous of her strides in the sand even as the remaining daylight as the sun fell into dusk. the witch’s decor would billow in the wind, proving just how hard it was to follow for the unfortunate flier. she would look delicate and mystical while he looked like a bat trapped in an empty rum bottle. tiny chirps would call after her to slow her pace, but there was no coaxing Sally McKnight. she was the one to coax him to that secluded beach.

finally, and just as the moon called the tides in a different direction, mercy would allow the bat to combat sea salt wind. he’d find his way to close the distance and perch upon her shoulder. the nuzzle to follow was unexpected but by no means a first for physical touch. fingers in wings, and claws in toes were delicate as the creature settled in it’s place. the bat had a particular liking to the scent at the pulse point of her neck. thus his snout would rub against smooth skin clear of all imperfections.

the particles of sand would glisten in what would appear to be a rivalry against the stars. the moon was partial to the beach sand since it would glow far brighter than the budding blanket of shimmer. since she was leading the way to their impromptu campsite, he’d enjoy the ride upon her shoulder until darkness finally took to the beach. a calmness would silence the bat’s chirps. for once, it was as if Marshall Lee couldn’t find anything to complain about. these were their most intimate moments. silence could be rather awkward when shared with anyone other than his witchy friend. yet they had other modes of communication. a silent tongue could all but enunciate just how precious these moments were for him.

the familiar would read her thoughts as bat wings would materialize into a red flannel shirt and a bat snout would transform into a more natural vampiric one. shoe would replace skeletal bat claws, and he’d no longer rest upon her shoulder– but land on his feet behind her after hovering in his shifting. bat fangs, though, still gleaming in his smirk would retract for a moment as he spoke his mind. a blunt, yet teasing tone would follow to almost ruin the peaceful night, “I think you’d taste of dark cherries, maybe a hint of cinnamon... like a cherry tart, but spiced with warmth and probably rum.” speaking of which, “We did bring rum, didn’t we?” the we in that sentence would indicate a secular Sally Mcknight, since Marshall Lee had only packed his essentials– his bass guitar and a pack of cigarettes.

his eyes would trail her neck once more as he watched as enchanted wood fall into a circle for the perfect beach bonfire. it would keep them warm during that chilly night. “You ought to let me taste you one day. I promise I won’t bite hard-you can trust me. I have never broken your trust before.”

yet he all but could hear her protests, despite the look on her face.

from his shirt pocket, he’d pull a box of matches to light the fire with. though opening the match box he’d be sorely disappointed. “Oof. Last one. It’ll have to wait until I decide on when I’m taking my smoke break. Unless you want to wrestle me for it.”

@amcrvnthxne​