I should {not} be HERE.

[Lamenet]

The wastelands were the most unpleasant place for a wolf to be. Bodies upon bodies upon grime upon even more disgusting bodies. The carcassas were falling apart; some noticably canine, some too mangles and distorted to say it was more than flesh sitting upon bone. It was a true graveyard; death looming in it's wake.

A lone white figure seemed to blend in with the grey skies. It seemed to be him alone in the area; what other wolf would want to be seen in a graveyard anyways? His stance was tense, muscles knotted together in the canine's nervousness. His breathing was slow, hitching at some points. The wolf was. . . in pain.

Lamenent shuddered; this was the last place he should be. This was the last place he should have gone. This was the last place that he should be at night. This is the last. . . place he. . . should have. . . he shouldn't be here. The voices were louder here, spirits attatched to their bodies, those that were too attatched to the world to rest in peace. Lamenent tried to shut them out, closing his eyes, turning back his ears, making hismelf as small as possible. . . but he couldn't do it. He couldn't ignore the screams, not with the prescences of the others so loud.

Yet somehow, he had been pulled in this direction from the start.

He had gone too far to simply turn around now. He had to finish his treck through the wastelands. Ignore any heartwrenching stories of how they got here, the piercing screams, the lies and truths alike. I can't help you! Just because I can see you, hear you, listen to your unheard screams doesn't mean I can help you! Lamenent closed his eyes, horrified at the reactions of the spirits of these wolves. He was a ghost elemental. He was different, special in the way he could bring people back. Bring them back. They needed help; him.

Lamenent only turned his back and looked down. The ground was safe, the ground directly infront of him was. . . was safe. He couldn't see the battles, the things that went on here before. He was no psychic; and the canine thanked the heavens for that. "I can't help you." He said sternly, tail swishing between his legs. He stood frozen, listening to the replies. Listening to the beggers, pleading for their lost lives. He couldn't help them; he would only kill the little spirit they had left.