[Look, Hector, he's sorry he asked about pierogi. He is. Because he is going to fucking hate this so much. But you cannot fault a man for avoiding a holiday sponsored by a church that murdered his mother.
The dhampir is currently in his depression hut's bedroom, curled up on a mattress and layered in blanket over blanket. It is peaceful. Quiet. A fire flickers in the room's woodburning stove, keeping the place warm and lit even though there's no logistical reason for it.
Before the ferret lays all of the twisting and turning paths that Alucard's domain forces a traveler to take, trying to disorient them and eventually get them to leave well enough alone. To leave the dhampir alone.
But eventually, the ferret makes it, because what is a ferret if not a very determined, chaotic tube of fur?]
aka: Gef the Talking Mongoose's Revenge
The dhampir is currently in his depression hut's bedroom, curled up on a mattress and layered in blanket over blanket. It is peaceful. Quiet. A fire flickers in the room's woodburning stove, keeping the place warm and lit even though there's no logistical reason for it.
Before the ferret lays all of the twisting and turning paths that Alucard's domain forces a traveler to take, trying to disorient them and eventually get them to leave well enough alone. To leave the dhampir alone.
But eventually, the ferret makes it, because what is a ferret if not a very determined, chaotic tube of fur?]