Once he informed Mrs. Penny that he would not be eating lunch that day Lycus went and laid down on the couch in the parlor, arm resting over his eyes. He had a headache growing and he was tired after the panic from chasing down Mariel. He cared for the girl but she was going to put him into an early grave.

Resting for a moment with a soft sigh he got that feeling in his spine that he was being watched. Lifting his arm up just enough to peer out with one eye he saw nothing. Writing it off as exhaustion he closed his eyes again to take a nap.

Across the room in the door way however a shades form watched Lycus sleep on the couch as he had once done so often so many years ago. She long to have him rest his head on her lap has he had once done. Drifting closer to the resting man the Ghost reached down to stroke his cheek lightly. Lycus shivered in response and the woman pulled her hand away.

((skipping to evening))

Mariel was actually tired tonight, because she had not had her nap. Usually she slept in the afternoon and was up late into the evening. It was a habit she had picked up a long time ago, because the twilight hours were the most receptive to ghosts. She had once had a young ghost girl friend who could only appear after sunset because she had such a frail constitution. Mariel and the ghost had spent many evenings playing together, although her parents had not really approved of the late hours she kept.

As she prepared to go to bed, Mariel watched the little ghost dog sniffing around her room. It would occasionally jump in surprise as it found its nose going through things, as it was not used to this business of being incorporeal. Giggling at the dog's antics, Mariel called it over to her. Perhaps it would sleep up on the bed with her, like her cat had done when she lived with her parents.

"Grandma Ethel, are you sure this is ok? My mother and father will be worried if I don't return home soon." The young woman looked up to the pale figure standing beside her. It was a seemingly normal looking old woman at first glance, but she was ghostly pale, and from the knees to her feet seemed to dissolve into nothing.

"Don't worry Lillian, dear" the woman cooed, "this won't take too much longer. I'm sure your parents would understand." The woman motioned to a old house that lined the street. It was large and un-kept. The grass was almost ankle deep. The topiaries were overgrown and looked like mutated beasts.

"I don't like this grandma Ethel. Are you sure your son still lives here?" Lillian stepped cautiously towards the house. In the failing light the shifting shadows stretched, almost seeming to snatch her from her place. "He does, child. Please won't you help me? I want him to have my old knitting needles to tell him I love him."

Many people would agree, that it was good to get away from the busy, noisy, somewhat smelly city life now and again. All that inane chatter that went on. It was in many parks that people came to escape, and for once, Tilly had something in common with these people.
For someone who heard conversations, that were not entirely bound to her Earthly realm, peace and quiet was as valuable as gold.

The day was almost up, and darkness bore many threats to a lady out alone at night. Taking a last look at the red clouds, and darkening sky, she rose from her seat, and untied her horse from the chain decoration of the bench, to which she had stowed him. Taking a quick look around her, she hoisted her skirts, and hopped up onto the bench, and fixed herself into the side-saddle. Taking up the reins, she nudged the horse into a trot. "Take me home then Tick." She said in a soft voice, whilst giving him a pat. This large, white horse, had a black mane and tail, and also possessed long black stockings, with slight feathering. He had been a gift from her brother, for her 18th birthday.

Flicking out of this memory, she found he was taking her their usual way. Her home, was in the upper city, where most of the houses were large affairs, and spaced out from their neighbors. Some of the houses held many a ghost, many of which she had seen at times. Usually, for her, watching and talking to the ghosts, was not a sordid affair. There were though, a couple of the oldest houses, whose tenants over the years, had bore the blood of many murders and deaths. It was in one such house, that a particularly macabre feeling ghost that roamed the front gardens. Tilly had always been uncomfortable around the woman. As if she were an eavesdropper on some private goings on.

It was this house she passed now, with the large lounge windows still lit, and one of two shadows of light from upstairs. Her observations were disturbed by the appearance of a young man, only slighter older than her, at her side, fussing Tick. "Oh Roman! Did Auntie send you to retrieve me?" She said, with a light smile. The man called Roman nodded. "She did indeed. She's still got no faith in you, to have yourself kept out of trouble."
Together they made up the gently inclining pathway, homeward, all of the time, her eyes not straying from the tormented looking soul that drifted across the wild growing grass.