Companionship

Phurinces was spending his day just as he always did, doing whatever he wanted. That was probably the best perk of being dead, was being able to do whatever he pleased and having no obligations. He woke up from a light doze in the shade of his apple tree. After taking a quick stretch, Phurinces -more commonly known as Phurni by friends who thought his name was too long- decided to take a quick wander though town.

He first stops at the apple bobbing both, of course, and give Bart a tip of his hat. Bart tips his hat back, which confused the ones waiting in line to try to get a prize from the tub filled with water and apples. The light seemed to reflect off of his apparition in a way that made him hard to see. When a young bori stepped up to the booth, Phurni made a step behind the unknowing victim. As soon as the bori had its snout touching the water, the ghostly acara dunked its head fully into the water. The bori came back up immediately spluttering, shooting a glare at the old gnorbu, who just shrugged and offered a second chance.

Phurni snickered and went on his way towards a poorly light house that was one of the smallest in town. He peeped in the window and saw the dim flicker of a desk lamp. This was a sign that Phurni sighed at and continued on his way, deciding to not bother the young horror writer today.

He continues his stroll and stops by The Crumpetmonger, greeting the large meerca, placing a special order for a pizza flavored pastry, which he promises to pick up later in return for a few of his apples.

Deciding he was good for now, the ghost acara treks back into the woods towards his blooming apple tree. He admires his tree as he approaches. It's dark bark was inherited from its dark surroundings, but it's leaves and blossoms were the most colorful thing in the area. It's bright green leaves seemed permanently glued to the trees branches, besides the slight movement from the wind. The blossoms themselves were white, yet some held a pink tint, which could've been from an oncoming apple, or the forest's so called blood rich soil.

Phurni floated up to a top branch of the tree where quite a few apples sat ready and ripe for the picking, which the tree did always seem to be in the perfect equilibrium of blossoming, and ripe. Relaxing against the bark and pulling his legs up on the branch, the dead acara pulled his hat over his eyes and smiled blissfully. The weight of anyone besides a ghost would probably broken the trees limbs, but as he thought before, being dead had it's perks.

After another doze, he heard the rustling if leaves and a distant crackle of a fire coming closer. When a very large and flaming spirit entered the clearing, the acara was not surprised at all, but held his breath and grinned.

The gigantic spirit roamed closer, seemingly looking for someone, probably him, the ghost assumed.
When the forest spirit got beneath his spot, and looked directly up, Phurni took the opportunity to drop one of his apples right on the spirits face with explosive laughter on his end. He started his decent down the tree.