Sealoweenie [week 3]

"How do you get stuck in a sheet of all things?"

Curran had the decency to look ashamed from under their bedsheet hood. "It wasn't on purpose.... I cut the eyeholes kinda crooked, and with the fog it was really hard to see, and then I tripped over a rock, and then I got all turned around, and then I ended up in the trees, and then I got caught on the branches, and the--"

Kitka silenced them with a wave. "And then you fell over. Yep." She eyed the tattered edge of the otherwise fairly pristine sheet. "So you ruined your bedsheet walking into some trees. For a basic ghost costume."

"I think I ruined it when I cut the eye holes," Curran whispered.

"It's not even scary...." Kitka sighed as the pair walked on towards town. "You really are a mess, Curran."

The accused seal simply nodded. It was par for the course.

The walk went by quicker with company. As they got closer to town, ghostly lights began to appear in the fog--not more sheet spectres, but rather flickering jack o lanterns and the warm glow of windows as more houses cropped up. The area had always been a cozy one, but in the throes of autumn and surrounded by these quaintly decorated porches, it might as well have been a storybook.

Curran had lacked the foresight to remember that the sun set literally every night, but Kitka had come prepared with a lantern; neither needed worry, however, as streetlights came into view, lit early for the season's shorter days. The light was more than enought to see by, but it was scattered into the unrelenting fog, leaving the pair of seals shrouded in haze as dirt trail turned into stepping stones and paved streets. In the distance, the muffled sound of town festivities beckoned.

It took a moment for Kitka to register that Curran had stopped. She looked back to see them standing under a streetlight, peering around cautiously. She'd known them to be the nervous type since she'd met them, so it wasn't hard to dismiss. "Are you coming or not?"

"There's someone here." Their voice was a timid whisper that barely carried to Kitka's ears.

"It's a residential area. I'm sure there's plenty of people still walking around."

"No...." Their paws curled into their sheet-hood. "I mean, following us."

"Curran, look, I'm sure it's fine--"

"UAAAAAHHHH!!!"

The sound had come from Curran, not whatever they'd been listening for. They sprinted for Kitka; the billowing shape that darted out after them didn't have to bother hooting and hollering, seeing as how puffed both Curran and Kitka were already. But there was one thing perhaps they didn't count on: Kitka was not a runner. As the shape came at her, she widened her stance, gripped her tote, and swung--PAAMF! The heavy ceramic dish holding her prized drizzle cake hit like a brick, and suddenly the shape was down, groaning in a fabric puddle not unlike the one Curran had been tangled in just before.

Speaking of Curran, they had been more than happy to cower behind their friend, peering out now with the hem of their sheet balled in their paws.

"I thought you said sheet ghosts weren't scary, Kitka."

Kitka whipped around and yanked the sheet down over their head again.