O’ midnight air call to me like the song of a siren seducing me with her deadly charm of our sea below. O’ beloved Baltimore let your waters ebb and flow over my skin for one last time before I leave your grace tonight. O’ for the love of my sanity, let the forest be kind to my soul on the morrow as I leave you the next day, trees whistling and calling my name while begging me to stay one more night… I will not stay Baltimore, i’m sorry. I must leave you. - Brian
It was a clear night, one where you know stars can see you. Smoke blew nor nor east into the winds of the chilly beach Brian made his home for the night. But he wasn't bothered with the sting in his eyes when he had the soothing sound of the crackling fire and the cooking of food gracing his ears.
The ambient sounds of the night made him realise that maybe he was better off tucked away in a little pocket of forest instead of the city where he grew. Baltimore wasn’t a place for a man who was solely focused on something nobody believed in, and he knew that he needed to escape before the opportunity to find it was too late.
Brian sat with his knees pulled up to his chest as he thought on the fabled creatures the locals would often talk about around town. Was there a form of truth to them? Or were they completely fabricated to scare off children from the woods? This is where Brian came into the situation, to answer those burning questions people have had for a millennia.
"Do cryptids even exist?"
He quickly turned his head toward the juniper bushes behind the log he was sitting on to see nothing. Nothing that could hurt him more than the fact he was all alone looking for a fictional creature of legend.
And in that moment, in his dreaming, and in his smoke blown eyes…
He saw him.
Flirting with smoke, he could see him…
His heart jumped into his throat before he hesitated and froze, reaching down to rip a generous heaping of his dinner from the place it was cooking.
“Here! H-have some crab!” Brian yelped, feeling his heart jump to his throat as he haphazardly tossed a chunk of his dinner over to the looming presence that stood behind the veil of smoke that protected him.
He stood there just staring... Waiting for the perfect opportunity to reveal himself to the unlucky camper who anticipated the worst.
The creature he was here for, the creature that called him this far and invited himself to dinner. The creature who in his salivatin, had time to observe the puny man who stared like a rabbit that was about to become prey.
The hound of Fort Tilden.