Flashback To feed a living dog...

[Petro Lion]

Timestamp: 5th Winter 505 AV

Dead... Him... It seemed unbelievable. So young he was, and it was when his age was with one day less that he had died. Petro was depressed, floating above the rooftops, trying to deny what had happened. At first, the crushing pain felt overwhelming and he wasn't able to scream only because of having one of the logs smashing his neck. Then, silence and cold... The horror he had felt as he floated out of the pile of firewood and found out he could see through his skin couldn't still be described. Petro had no reason to live... for the second time, and he couldn't find any way out.

As he slithered his way through chimneys and walls, Petro finally noticed a familiar building. What was it? The humble wooden structure, the dirty windows and cozy decorated door told no lies. It was his shack. It was once Petro spotted it with his spectral eyes that he remembered about Silver. The dog had to still be stuck inside his house, faithfully awaiting its master. It would eventually starve if Petro didn't do anything. Depressedly lowering himself, Petro came to a hovering point in front of his door, and out of distraction, he tried to stick his hand in his pocket to reach for the key. It didn't cost him much time for him to realize that he could fly through the door, and as soon as he got there, he did the very same thing after a sigh of awe.

Inside, Silver was lying on the ground, hungry, never ceasing long stares at the door, waiting for the long awaited return of its master. At first, Petro seemed to be an intruder. The unaware mutt barked and growled at the sight of the shadow of its master, yet Petro felt no fear.
- It's me boy... Please, do what the others couldn't... Notice that I haven't changed...
The dog's barking became more paused and less loud, until it silenced itself and ran to its master. A small grin flourished on Petro's face as the dog came closer, and it vanished when it tried to lick his hands with no success. Petro couldn't open the door to let it outside, nor pet it, despite wanting to do both. An empty wooden bowl on the ground revealed that Silver hadn't eaten in a while, and Petro floated to the corner, where a basket with some fish, conserved by salt, awaited. Out of innocence, he moved his right hand to pick up the food, and watched powerlessly as it flew through the fish without making it even move. The despair was sharpened, as he kept swinging his arms in panic, and yet neither the bowl or the fish was willing to move.

Petro shouted and slapped the bowl, having the same effect as all his previous 'hits'. Yet this time, once his arm had swung enough to be pointing behind him, a mysterious force pushed the hay pillow on his beed across the room, causing it to splash on a wall.
- What the...?
The ghost flew to the pillow on the ground and stretched his right arm once again. After closing his eyes and making some effort, the pillow was pushed once again. It had to be a power ghosts could take advantage of, and since he was for then on a ghost, he thought he should probably face those abilities as useful, and try to learn them.

As he flew back to the bowl, Petro stretched his arms and prepared to try to fly a sardine all the way to Silver's plate and feed the dog by himself. A little soulmist was consumed as the bowl started being slowly pushed, causing a sliver of pain and loss of focus from the recently dead. Instead of a slow flight that would land on a bowl, all the sardines experienced an explosion as their container was pushed and smashed against the wall and every fish was flung around the room. Silver ran to the remains of the lost battle against the tuna and sardines and started to feed off the ones that were on the ground, proceeding later to those that were on the bed.
- I guess that will do... for now...