As was the usual, the earthen ghoul would have preferred to be left to his own devices for the day⌠Or the next several. Hundred. The comfort of his alcove within the catacombs, lichen and loam bestrewn, beckoned him to simply forgo his duties and hide beneath the bed covers. But no, Secundo summoned each ghoul for assistance, all having to cater to the elder one-by-one, hounded with questions, questions, and even more questions. Earth had been sulking in the antechamber for hours and had yet to be called for his turn, leaving little time to do much else before nightfall.
Muffled conversation could be heard between Papa and one of the others through the heavy oaken door, but the words could not be deciphered. There was an occasional humorous outburst, an exhausted and heavy sigh once in a while, and some irate yelling here and there, but other than that, it was just the gentle lull of rhythmic discussion. That, on top of the comforting warmth of the fireplace, was putting the poor, waiting ghoul right to sleep. Gently he slumped over in his seat, eyelids drooping with his chin tucked down onto his chest.
⌠And then Mary had to destroy his precious slumber, all but crash-landing right beside him. The ghoul bristled, frigid electricity running up the length of his spine. Fight-or-flight kicked in, with the former winning without contest. With his fist reared back and a growl settling within the confines of his throat, the cobwebs of sleep finally dissipated.
â Oh, fucking hell⌠It's just you. â The tone wasn't exactly warm, but nor was the iced edge polished to cut. As the Earth Ghoul collapsed backward with a shaking exhale, his head caught up to speed, registering what it was the other had asked. Perhaps it was lack of sleep, or maybe it was simply because he was the youngest of the ghouls and had a knack for being snippy, but something about the question rankled his nerves, even if just a bit. They were, after all, just outside Secundo's room.
â He's busy. â The ghoul issued flatly, pointing to the old one's door. From beyond, a firm â No. No. No. Absolutely NOT. â resounded as if on cue. â And he seems to be having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. If, for whatever reason, you think whatever you have to say is important enough to interrupt his delusions of grandeur, then be my guest. Maybe he'll speed things along for the rest of us. â
A pause. Then a tired glance at the writing scribbled across parchment. â ⌠Were you watching porâyou know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything. Let's go get Papa, shall we? â
