Dirge and Feeding
It was the appointed night and after grabbing a quick bite for the night Dirge found herself in route to Squattaville once again. Every fiber of her being told her this was a horrible idea and would only end badly for her, but the Prince had given her an assignment and she would carry it out.
The blind haunt scratched her guide dog's head as it panted softly beside her on the bus. So much had happened lately and she just wanted this night to be over and this homeless situation with her father to be behind her so she can focus on other things.
For Dirge the trip was nothing but a collection of sounds. That single mother singing softly to comfort her crying child, the group of teenagers talking noisily at the back of the bus, the grinding of the gears and the feel of the vehicle accelerating, and through all of this the ever present sound of the diesel engine punctuated by the hiss of the air brakes which are accompanied by the driver announcing the stops.
When they stopped at the location that Dirge had told the driver she got up and exited the bus. The thunk of her cane on the floor, the quiet clacking of Cerberus' nails on the ground, and the lingering odor of dirt was all that accompanied her departure. She slowly and methodically made her way toward the camp of the Rev'rend's men the distant sounds of open flame quickly sent her beast on edge and demanded that she retreat.