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Charred Ashes

If you could still use english, what you would say would sound like: "Die, punk!" Instead, you utter a vulpix call that sounds like a battle cry. You inhale a full lungful of oxygen and let it all go in an infernal attack that chars the tips of your whiskers! When it's finally done, there's a strong odor of overdone steak in the musty air, and a pile of charred ashes on the dusty floor. "Hmph," you think. "Thought so."

As you begin trotting away, your six tails and your muzzle high up in the air, all of a sudden, you hear ...


Written by blair (edited by wanderer)

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