Life had never been simple for Moslay, things may have leveled off for the past few years, but the man knew enough not to get too comfortable with things for long. Now a terror has happened upon him, and his entire world is turning upside. The question is, does he got what it takes to face it, or will he succumb to it?
Foxhound: I
The otherworldly hiss broke Moslay from his napping, sending the daggers of ice up and down his spine. As the hounds began to bark, the old man knew he was going to need the scattergun. If the graying man hadn’t enough warning, the sprite that shot in through the window gave him a certainty that…
Foxhound: II
A gale of autumn colored leaves blew down the lane as Moslay came to the end of his lot. He had done his best in cleaning up, not as though Winifred was likely to care. He patted down his coat, making sure he wasn’t going out entirely unarmed. Moslay would have loved to take the…
Foxhound: III
The hammock nearly tipped as the pained cries and yowls struck his ears; he wouldn’t need a sprite to tell him what was happening outside. It was a violent noise, the chains rattling only punctuated how terrible things were getting in the dark of midnight. Trying to collect himself through the haze of alcohol and…
Foxhound: IV
On the silent feet of a scurrying centipede, the fox crept its way out of the woods with careful steps. He hadn’t been terribly concerned about his flight into the woods. That had all been a rouse to get the pup to give chase. Even had he fallen for one of the old farmer’s many,…
Foxhound: V
At first, Moslay wasn’t sure he was still alive. He had considered that those jagged points driving into his arms were no more than a final embrace. He felt that any moment the fox’s teeth should close around his skull and kill him in an instant, yet that didn’t come. What did was the feeling…
Foxhound: VI
There was nothing left for Moslay to go home to, he realized as he stepped into his lot. The dog houses had been smashed in and only barely stood upright, the old chicken coop had received that final blow Moslay expected a good storm to cause, and then there was his home. If anything of…
Foxhound: VII
Moslay stared into oblivion, the particles floating around at the bottom of his mug only vaguely exciting curiosity before he went for another drink. The cold of winter was biting down hard, and he knew he should have gotten on his way already. Still, he knew this was going to be the only way he…
Foxhound: VIII
“Well farmhand, it looks like your search ends here. Now can I have the marks you’ve got on you or am going to have to follow you home?” the soot and snowy cat asked, interrupting very suddenly.Pressing the full-fingered hand against his face, Moslay grumbled, “Never an easy day under this sun and never a…
Foxhound: IX
Waking in the hayloft the next morning, Moslay was still a bit hazy in thought, the ether still somewhat sticking with him. To be fair, he had not fully come off of the stuff before leaving Haludram and only vaguely recalled tying up the pack beasts before passing out. He knew the cart hadn’t been…
Foxhound: X
The afternoon sun was sinking low with haste, the great cloud skimming trees being of little help to Moslay. Yet his search for the fox would not be long; he felt eyes upon him the moment he stepped into his lot. It was desolate just like he left it, but now it looked as though…
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