Commander Braghaman Larethian

Here To Help

What’s that? What’s that noise? Is it over there?

There it is!

What’s that smell? Where’s it coming from? Is it this? IT IS!

This is the most wonderful smell. I must tell the others!

Wait!

What was that?

That sound? Something’s happening! Where?

Nearby.

There!

A fight!

He needs help!

I can help!

______

The militiaman swung his sword again. His blade tore into the arm of the skeleton that had wandered from the cemetery down onto the road. He had called for assistance, fearing that more skeletons might follow suit, but for the moment none did.

Yanking his sword back, the skeleton’s left arm was pulled free from the body and clattered to the ground. The militiaman raised his sword high and brought it down on the hissing monster, cleaving its skull in twain. As the skeleton sank to the ground, twitching slightly, the militiaman saw something darting towards him out of the corner of his eye.

“Fel!” he exclaimed, as he turned towards this new attack. At the last minute, he realized that it was nothing more than one of the local dogs that prowled for scraps around town. Letting his guard down slightly, he watched as the dog darted forward, picking up the dismembered skeletal arm and then started trotting off towards the woods.  “Fel! Put that down, mutt!” the watcher said as he chased after the dog.

______

“Mine!”