#also: imagine that it gets close to lunch time and Nightshade offers to help Maude with the cooking

[thesundowncrew]

As soon as the creature spoke, Samhain was quick to scribble into his notebook. "Ah'm grateful my 'silly' friend woke me," the ghoul replied flatly, his eyes still cast downward on his writing. "She made sure ah didn't waste away sleeping so punishment's not necessary, despite what you think."

Green eyes darted up and down as Samhain tried sketching the creature's current form as well as that of a snake and a horse. Next to the crude sketches were notes such as 'preferred forms?' and 'full of itself' in neat but hasty penmanship. Not wanting to dwell on past events for too long, Samhain asked with thriving curiosity:

"You've taken on different forms besides this one. Can you shapeshift into any creature you desire? Any form at all, even if it doesn't exist? Or can you only turn into things you've personally seen?"

Samhain paused, thinking to himself. Then he added on another question over the previous one: "Can you mimic a creature's abilities as well? You can mimic a bird an' learn how to fly.. Does that mean you can mimic a fish an' breathe with its gills? If you took on the form of a dragon, could you breathe fire?"

The ghoul wrote down his additional inquiries as he spoke, lest he forgot them. If the creature was in any mood to humor him, that was something Samhain would have to put up with. But like the most tenacious researcher, he enjoyed a good a challenge when an interesting enough subject matter was involved.

Once freed from the bubble, Feld ignored Samhain entirely at first. Ten seconds passed while the smoky creature darted from corner to corner, checking its usual escape routes — cracks in the walls, ceiling, floor — only to find them sealed. Another barrier.

Except, this time, Feld was trapped inside the room. Not outside. It didn’t find the irony amusing.

Giving up on escape for now, the creature settled on the headboard of the bed. Its foggy form smoothed into a dusty-feathered crow. “I did not have a good rest,” it informed him, its raspy voice like the crackle of autumn leaves underfoot. “It was cramped and you kept me in there too long. I didn’t like it.”

Shifting from one clawed foot to the other, the creature clacked its beak in displeasure. “You’re being very ungrateful. I gave you a nice dream, and your silly friend spoiled it.” It glared at Samhain with keen amber eyes. “It’s rude to wake people sleeping. You should punish her, not me. Put her in a bubble.”