Corian awoke to a jolt as the carriage made its usual rough stop. Without opening his eyes he could tell it was daytime, or someone was shining a painfully bright light on his eyelids. He lay in the peaceful setting, smiling contently as the light warmed his body. But his mind was quick to catch up, and he realized something mundane, yet wrong.

He'd woken up.

After staying awake for days and finally accepting that he was, in fact, dead, he'd mysteriously fallen asleep.

His mind reeled back to the night before. Was it night? The carriage was always dark, but it had been stopped for at least an hour. He'd refused another snack from Quibbis after the bread went sideways, and had just tried to focus on anything but his growling stomach. But that plan went downhill. He'd spent each passing hour lying on the wagon floor, curled into a weak little ball as his growling stomach evolved into a howling whine. A gods awful hunger. Gnawing at every corner of his stomach like he had swallowed a cup full of needles. It felt like an eternity had gone by, alone in the space. He was ready to use his last bit of energy to snatch even a scrap of food. He would kill for a bite.

And then...

He quickly opened his eyes, and if his heart was still beating, it would have stopped completely at Quibbis' wide-eyed stare as he lay down facing him with a sinister smile.

"Good morning starshine!"

Corian drew back with a shudder, checking what was visible of his body to make sure Quibbis hadn't done anything. He quickly shuffled away as the necromancer leaned up with a stretch, grimacing at the smell of rotten grass emanating from his robes.

"Have a nice nap?"

Corian rubbed his eyes with a groan, wincing at the pain the direct sunlight gave them. "You said undead don't sleep, sock puppet."

"Well... I suppose you blacked out after Inprobus had to slice your head off." Quibbis smiled as Corian felt his neck, wiggling his fingers gleefully. "You got a bit hangry."

"Hangry?"

"Notice anything... different?"

Corian gave Quibbis a hard stare, looking the necromancer up and down to make sure all his limbs were stitched on. He turned to inspect his own body, feeling his rough linen shirt, still stained brown with old blood from the various spots he had been struck during his escape attempts. There was a newer stain, completely covering his chest with a splotchy waterfall of red. It didn't set any alarms off for Corian, it lined up with having his head lopped off. He checked his grimy nails, frustrated at the lack of hints as he glared at Quibbis. "No?"

"Reaaallly?" Quibbis gave a corner of the wagon multiple glances, his stitches stretching as his smile grew to unnerving proportions. "Tell me dear, are you hungry?"

Corian thought about Quibbis' words. "No..."

Then he really thought about it, his eyes slowly widening as he looked to the wagon instead. He could see light. For the first time in days, the thick blankets were gone, allowing the evening's light to fill the space with an orange glow. It was apparent that the view was not by choice. Where the fabric had once been nailed into the wall to cover the window, there were splinters of shredded wood. The iron bars had been torn out completely, nowhere to be found. He moved closer to the wreckage, noticing a spot lower on the wall where he could discern a few deep scratches. The grooves were stained with a dark red substance, and it was easy for Corian to guess what that was. He was covered in it after all.

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He ran his fingers along one of the marks, his stomach turning at how perfectly his hand fit.

Corian gave Quibbis a weak scoff. There had to be another answer. "You're screwing with me."

"As much as I'd love to screw with you, all you deserve from me is the truth lovely." Quibbis gave Corian a heartfelt smile, slowly spreading his arms. "Do you need a hug, kitten? I know it's hard to..." He choked down a laugh. "Well... does it count if you eat... you know."

Corian stared through the hole in the wall, shrinking back when he caught the gaze of a passing soldier. He couldn't gauge their reaction before he hid, but his mind filled in the blanks regardless. He had torn through the side of a reinforced wagon, and despite the amount of noise that would have made he definitely got... something. Not remembering a second of it was a blessing and a curse. How many? Were they okay? Likely not.

He wasn't any better than the abomination sitting right beside him. The only grace Quibbis had over him was that the necromancer didn't need to eat, he just bit for the fun of it.

Quibbis cleared his throat.

Even if it was printed, bound and slapped in his grimy hands, Quibbis still wouldn't ever learn to read a room. He scooched closer to Corian, taking his silence for confusion. "Oh, why are you so torn up about this, Sweetface? I know how you were getting signatures."

Corian hid his face before any emotions showed stronger than they needed to, mumbling through his arms. "This isn't the same."

"Right yes, less waste this way I suppose." Quibbis mused, sneaking a chuckle in the pressing silence that ensued.

His joke must have spurred another funny thought, because soon after he let out a louder laugh. And another one. When the laughter didn't subside, Corian slowly lifted his head, his fists clenching as a sizzling anger boiled in his stomach. He caught the necromancer's gaze, only momentarily silencing him before the spitting laughter came back twofold. "It's just so funny!" Quibbis took in a couple dry and unnatural breaths to fuel his laughter. "Of all the ghouls!"

"I'm not a ghoul!" Corian roared, snatching Quibbis' collar before he could back away. Instead of putting up a fight, Quibbis relaxed completely, eyes wide as Corian yanked him close. "Listen stitch arse, How many ghouls have you seen?"

"Plenty." Quibbis squeaked, shrinking into his robes.

"Good. Then you should know that they don't talk, or think. If I was a ghoul, your head would be off your body and through that wall by now."

"Oh..." Quibbis looked at the broken wall, then at the ground to think. "What about-"

"No."

"Okay..." Quibbis hung his head in defeated silence, waiting for Corian's grip to lax a bit before his voice lit up again. "Can I call you a Goob? Undead is too broad of a term, and I technically invented a new species!"

Corian cocked an eyebrow, his grip on Quibbis' collar tightening once more. "What?"

"A Goob! So I can go 'look at all those Goobs', or 'Come here my little Goobywooby.' It's-"

"No!" Corian yelled, motioning to himself with a hellsent scowl. "I'm Corian. You'll call me Corian. If you call me anything else, I will tear you into so many pieces my father will raise a new puppet to save himself the hassle of putting you back together."

Quibbis wiggled uncomfortably in Corian's grip, the weight of the threat finally unsettling the necromancer. Still, he tried to revive a little bit of a smile as he spoke. "You didn't seem to mind me calling you Sweetface."

"I mind every word that comes out of your mouth," Corian spat, throwing Quibbis back with enough force to land him on his back. "I have minded your existence since the very first day my mother had you babysit me and Rikka. The only reason my father keeps you around is because you're stupid and twisted enough to kiss his arse without inconveniencing him. But as soon as you've served your purpose, he'll have you on a bed of sticks and watch you burn alive."

Slowly and cautiously, Quibbis picked himself back up. When Corian didn't show any signs of coming closer, he scuttled into the closest corner like a kicked puppy, his voice dipping to a timid whisper as he gazed at Corian in confusion. "But... I brought you back."

Corian rose, a single step driving Quibbis further into his corner. "What do you want? A medal?" He took another step, ignoring the bright sunlight that struck his face and burned his eyes. Ignoring the familiar figures that passed the opening, an armoured man and his Follower in their animal skull mask. He drove a cold glare into Quibbis before his father made it to the door, making sure every word was dripping with venom. "You ruined my life."