This One's Not So Stiff… (Private RP)

[Mortimer]

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Marrow was hungry. Looking around her tree she found no scraps of anything edible. Any tidbits of food that she had squirrelled away were now gone, and so it was time to forage. She grabbed her bone and set out into the forest, determined to find food.

Marrow started wandering the woods but finding only twigs and turds to gnaw on, she pressed on. She wandered on for several more minutes until she came upon a rotting, fermenting pumpkin. Unaffected by its smell or appearance, she smashed a hole in the side with her bone and immediately started to feast, as at this point she was feeling a little weak from hunger. She pulled herself half way in, smushing pumpkin into her cheeks as she went. As she ate, Marrow was overcome with a strange wooziness and was slowly succumbing to the alcohol that had fermented inside the fruit. She kept eating until she passed out, blackout-drunk.

About that time, a Dreg named Mortimer was walking through the forest. The morgue he worked for was running low on funds, so he was commissioned to look for some fresh cadavers to sell off to necromancers. Equipped with heavy leather surgical gloves and some body-bags, he was having little luck. The whole forest seemed to be booming with life, and this made Morty sad.

After wandering for a ways, the dark ginger Dreg squirrel finally came across something of interest.  He saw Marrow, sticking like a cork out of the side of a rotting pumpkin, only her hips down visible. He set down his bags and rapped on the gourd to see if there was a response. There was none. He referred briefly to his enchanted pocket watch. It was stopped at 4:20, like it had been for the past month. This was precisely how long it had been since it last ticked, signifying that the damned were nearby. Looking over the scene, he decided she must have choked to death a week ago, given the decay of the pumpkin and, seemingly, her too. He lamented, "awwwww, poor……… girl." He pulled her body out and layed it down on a body-bag. "What a shame, you were a cute one too…" He briefly checked her over, then closed the bag up. Noticing the massive femur that was lying near the pumpkin, he grabbed that too, admiring how well preserved it was. One body had to do for him, as it was getting dark. Mortimer made his way back to the village, and the morgue, to stash this find.

Soon after his return, Mortimer moved Marrow from her body bag to the operating table, to prepare her for sale. As he turned to the counter to prepare his instruments, she began to stir…

[Mortimer]

"I wouldn't blame you after he lunged at you like that. I've no doubt you could easily tear him a new as…." He noticed her about to push the squirrel out of the tree and potentially off the branch. "…uh, let me get him down. a fall like that could kill him if he lands wrong." Mort  leaned down and took the squirrels pulse. It was strong. He then hoisted the feral over his shoulder and started to climb down holding the bark of the tree. The climb was much easier without open wounds.

[Marrow]

Marrow watched him as he climbed down with the squirrel. She sighed and leaned against her wall. She slid down and sat against the wall, waiting for him to return, hoping he put the squirrel far from her tree.

[Mortimer]

Mort carried the feral several trees away before setting him down against a trunk. on his way back he looked at the cart containing the rest of the bas of nuts that were abandoned to run inside. It was covered in broken hail stones. It had been crushed, but the bags themselves were only covered. He took one with him back up the tree. "Looks like he didn't touch the rest of them. but the Cart I borrowed got crushed…" he said as he walked into her doorway.

[Marrow]

"Oh.... What are you going to do about that...? I don't know how to fix anything..."

[Mortimer]

Mort started buttoning his shirt, but noticed the large drool spot on his belly and what looked like dried blood crusted on his chest near the pendant, He started grooming himself instead, this time like a feral squirrel. "We have a woodworker in the village. I'll probably either get the shop a new one or pay Gertrude what it's worth. I can't just leave them with a broken cart, they trusted me."

[Marrow]

"Oh..." She watched him as he groomed himself. "Why do you do that?" She tilted her head, confused as to why he cleans himself, especially so often. "I never do that."

[Mortimer]

"Never?…" Mort looked at her and instantly believed it. Half of her face was slicked down with slobber and the rest was unevenly grouped and sticking out sharply in places. He had noticed her appearance before but not hazarded a guess that she'd never groomed herself. "…well, I do it mostly because it feels good to have clean fur and to avoid getting ill or get infested with parasites." Mort finished on himself, fluffing out his chest and stomach. He buttoned his clothes back up. "Would… Would you like me to groom you?… I'll be gentle."

[Marrow]

Marrow looked at herself. "I... I guess you can... I never really bothered with it though, myself. I guess I haven't had to worry too much about some of that..."

[Mortimer]

"That actually does make sense, parasites and bacteria can't survive your aura. Have you ever gotten sick?" Mortimer sat down in front of her and began with her face. Mostly using the slobber that was already dripping from her cheek, he wet his hands and ran them through her fur, wicking away the oils and dirt. His dull claws ran gently across her skin underneath.

[Marrow]

"I don't know... I might have?" She closed her eyes as he cleaned her face, not really seeing the big deal about this behavior.

[Mortimer]

He continued onto the back of her head and under her chin. "at least I know I won't catch anything from you then." he said as he began to lick her neck.

[Marrow]

Marrow looked at the ceiling while he did that. "I guess not...." She sat there as he groomed her, itching the side of her head. Having never cleaned her fur before, it being somewhat cleaner felt strange to her.

[Mortimer]

Mort continued grooming Marrow. He gradually worked through all her tangles and knots. He found several long dead fleas and crusty patches of fur. he was quite thorough in removing all dirt and oils. after about an hour of grooming she looked far less sickly, almost healthy. All her fur was much softer and smoother now.

Mort spit a couple times trying to get the taste out of his mouth after he'd finished. It was no use though, his mouth tasted like he had licked the floor drain of the morgue's operating room. "How's that feel now? you definitely feel much softer." he asked stroking her tail.

[Marrow]

Marrow felt her tail, which was a lot fuller than it used to be, as well as the fur on the rest of her body. "I don't know. Feels weird. I guess I'll get used to it..."

[Mortimer]

He was sitting with her, playing with her tail now. "Well, if anything it makes you look stronger and much healthier. You'll arouse less attention like this."

[Marrow]

"Okay... I hope you're right...." She watched him play with her tail for a moment, then reached over and grabbed his tail to feel.

[Mortimer]

Mort buried his nose in Marrow's tail and took a large whiff. He was met with the familiar smell of death and decay despite his thorough grooming. "Hmmm, at first I thought I was just smelling my morgue on you. Later when you still smelled like death, though, I thought it may just have been something on your fur, and there was certainly a lot that tasted like it. But even after all that the scent is still just as strong. I guess you just naturally smell of death." He took another large whiff of her tail.. The smell was not unpleasant to him.

[Marrow]

"I smelled like this as long as I can remember..." She took several smaller sniffs of his tail. "You hardly smell like anything at all..." She ran her fingers through the fur of his tail unconsciously as she talked, unaware she was brushing it in the wrong direction.

[Mortimer]

Mortimer Winced as she stroked his fur the wrong way. He didn't want to be rude though, so he pretended not to notice. "Maybe we should bring in the rest of the bags there aren't too many left down there."

[Marrow]

"Yeah." She got up and jumped down branch to branch to the ground, and grabbed a few of the remaining bags in her arm. She climbed them back up quickly and started tossing them in her home. "Almost done." She descended for another bag.

[Mortimer]

By the time mort had gotten to his feet and walked to the branch preparing to go go, Marrow had already came up with the last bag. "Oh…" he looked down to the empty pile of splinters that used to be a cart. "…nicely done, you are quite fast. I've gotten kind of sedentary, out of shape."

[Marrow]

She put the last bag down in the pile. "I can tell... You're not really all that fast..." She tilted her head and looked at him.

[Mortimer]

"yeah… I've gotten more used walking everywhere I need to go. Maybe I should spend some more time out here in the forest running around, huh?" he chuckled. He was now smoothing the fur on his tail the proper direction. "For now though I should probably get back home before it gets too late." He did not want to leave, but he had to keep within his work schedule. The villagers would not appreciate their loved ones rotting for too long.

[Marrow]

Marrow sighed and looked at him. "Okay..." She finally had someone she felt safe to talk to, and she was saddened that he had to leave. "Will you return someday...?"

[Mortimer]

"yes, I'll let you know when I'm going on another search for bodies and we can run around the whole forest together, ok?" He stepped towards her and raised his arms to offer a hug. "It was really nice seeing you again Marrow."

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