2 Works by ratxen
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“Who–- what are you!?”
It laughed, low, bellowing, powerful. It rocked Martyn’s core, rattling his ribcage.
Slowly, its form cleared. Not that it disappeared, no, it constructed itself, like wooden blocks seamlessly falling into place, a-– a purple shape, something that rose nauseating bile to burn at the back of his throat.(or, martyn stumbles on a c.h.e.s.t. agent in le terrière)
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Summary
The tennis ball was fairly oversized, compared to Ren, and only half of it remained, leaving a large hollow space inside. He grasped one paw onto the circular edge of it, dragging it closer to his ship to haul it up, when he noticed the excess of water inside. It appeared dirty; a dark, greenish colour tinting the waters.
And, as it approached Ren, his heart sank upon seeing what was curled up inside the ball.
Or, more, who.(or, ren and martyns first meeting in rats in paris)