[ P ] the goblin's lair

T

he little changeling was slowly coming to realise that he hated snow. It was cold, wet and slippery. He couldn’t count the amount of times it had tricked him into falling on his ass. Especially after a day of sun and a night of frost when the newly melted snow froze again into almost invisible patches of ice. He was a creature of the night, in the dark he could barely tell the difference between ice and dirt. It was like playing a complicated game of the floor is lava, but not at all fun. It was harder for him to hide in the winter covered woods when the bright white exposed his dark shape among the shadows.

For a thief blending in was a necessary skill, but without his natural camouflage he was struggling to feed himself. Sorcha’s hunting lessons ended up being the only way he could eat. He wasn’t above catching rats to stave off his hunger and they ended up being what his diet mostly consisted of. The scruffy stray was chewing on a juicy rat when he heard the tell tale crunch of someone making their way through the woods. He was laid out in the shadows of the trees where most of the snow had begun to melt away leaving patches of dirt. Who’s there? he called out, deepening his voice to sound bigger than he actually was.

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck