A Wolfy Tale: The misadventures of Wean Dinchester
Chapter One: Requiem for a Dean
Hail thou, mine name be Wean. YAAARRR!
The eve of last met mine hind quarters with a bit of a kerfuffle. Thou should seeith mine sibling, who is a mite touched in the head if you catch mine meaning, for he allowed mine fine automobile-machine to be made the serving-wench thereof whence a land freighter caught us unaware.
I also appear to have a bit of a concussion, though I've yet to notice any possible psychological effects... Most curious, you'd think such would have a discernible effect!
I arise in a most fastidious of manners, only to misgauge mine physical fortitudity. Which had the curious effect of launching me through the ceiling. Strange, I remember floors having more substance than this... We used to have proper floors! What could stop your incidental flights.
I call out for mine brother. "Wam. where art thou mine brother!" After a bit of waiting, I decided to forgo courtesy, and call for mine father. "Whon, where art thou!"
A shadow creature flowed toward me. It stopped and took the form of a lovely, though under-clothed, wench.
I spake towards her. "Mine good wench, wherefore ist thou of the shadowed persuasion?"
The wench had a look that spake of much balmisity, or perchance the ingestion of inordinate quantities of lactants.
She spake at me. "Why... Pirate...?" The wench preceded to lay her hands on mine clothing, and cutlass.
After allowing tactual exploration, I correct her. "I am not a pirate, how rude! I am an Admiral of the great King's naval forces, any accusations of my status as a privateer are without merit... Unless thou art one of the King's courier wenches, in that case I might be. My title is Grand Admiral Wean, what are thou addressed as?"
The courier wench thought for a bit. "I am a guide, one of an army with many titles amongst us. Though none of us can claim them for ourselves, we are a collective... we are the psychopomps. Though most know us as... Reapers."
...To be continued!