Sealoweenie [week 2]

The path from Kitka's seaside cottage to the nearby port town was a winding one. Dunes and low hills weren't much to tackle, and under normal circumstances it would offer a clear view of the sparkling sea, but the setting sun had been erased from the sky this evening by a thick bank of fog making its sleepy way along the coast. It had been light and charming when it first rolled in, but now it was so thick that Kitka appreciated just being able to see her paws in front of her. But--festivities waited for no one. Laden with the prior day's whirlwind baking (the neighbour had been hard pressed to use up that ambitious apple impulse-buy all by himself), she had a party in mind, and no conveniently-seasonal weather was going to deter her.

Unfortunately the coming nightfall was doing her no favours. Even the ever-present ocean sounded distant as it crashed upon the shore, muffled by the silence of a Halloween night. Her own pawsteps on the dirt path seemed to ring in her ears. Had the walk always been this long? Maybe she'd just grown used to it. Surely the unusual circumstances were just drawing her attention to it. But mental reassurances didn't do much to dissuade her ears from pricking at every stray rustle. What was she thinking! Kitka was not a seal known for skittishness, but even her steadfast heart seemed to quiver in the mysterious whi--

There! She was sure she'd heard something. A rustling, to be precise, something wiggling in the trees. She paused, barely restraining herself from squeezing nervous pawprints into the apple loaf she'd been steadying atop her tote. It was hard to pick out a direction in this quieting fog, but after a moment her ears swiveled to fix on a point.

She, unfortunately, was not alone.

Wary as she was, curiosity got the better of Kitka, as it often did. With quiet pawsteps she crept forward, tail carefully raised to as not to drag on any stones and give her away. As she approached, she thought she could make out some sort of grunting.... perhaps the hungry snuffling of some beast? It was impossible to say. The trees seemed to wiggle fiercely as they came into view through the fog; there, a shape loomed, its strange silhouette swaying and seeming to pull on the branches around it. Closer still she crept, straining to make out what alien had come to her familiar coast--

Riiiip!!

The shape fell back suddenly with a start, branches snapping away. Kitka couldn't help herself--she let out a squeak, paw snapping up to cover her mouth. The shape, now wiggling furiously on the ground, noticed her and shrieked in reply. But instead of running, Kitka marched up to the pitiful heap, grabbing its pale hide and giving a sharp yank.

"Ow! Stop!!!"

It didn't come all the way off, but in the tangled mess she could make out dark fur and a miserable face. Inky eyes looked tragically up at her.

".... Curran?"

"Kitka! Let go!!"

Ears flat, she yanked the sheet back down over their head without mercy. Suddenly she liked them better that way.