Ghosts }{ .open.

[ϟHyacinthϟ]

Woodpecker hammers on the sparse cypresses and the quiet rustle of a stale wind were the only signs of life upon the mountain side. Yet with the dangers of the island all coming from living creatures, silence had become more of a serene occurrence than noise. The labradoodle smirked, only a summer or so ago such an absence of heartbeats would have unsettled him. Now it was the only sign that things might be safe for the moment. Finn shook his pelt as insects flitted near him, they were the buggers who bothered the living and couldn't help but be drawn to his pumping blood.

Living through the virus was at times a blessing, yet the constant reminder of all the comrades he had lost and abandoned to survive was a never ceasing assault on his conscience. Steeling his heart to the cries for help, pity, companionship in one's last hours had beat away at his lighthearted demeanor. He wasn't just an alpha anymore, one to lead the others through trivial matters and keep the pack organized. He had become a leader, his sole purpose being to keep his family alive and thriving not only for the current season but for all the seasons to come. In the time since dogs started dropping like flies, Finn had matured.

And now, from the depths of desolation, life had begun to sneak through. The Fuljenge founder never ceased his fascination with the fact that no matter what occurred: life finds a way. And just when one thinks they're all alone in the wilderness, a single brain trying to make sense of things, there was a weed growing through the concrete. Finn was on alert then, for the cracking of a twig told him some other being was meandering through the area. The sound was downwind of him, and instead of waiting to see what and who it could be the lab mix slunk into the sparse cover of vegetation to see whether friend or foe had come to pass.