Growing Up - Yerv the Desert Ghoul

Trying to work out the changes this species goes through as it matures.

Newborn- They begin life in the safety of the den as helpless black lumps of fat.

Yerv was born outside a major trade city in the desert, on the border between the land of his ancestors and the temptations of human settlements.

8 Months Old (15 Human Months)- Parents rotate hunting nights so that one can stay with the child at all times. Toward the end of the first year they begin taking the child on brief exploratory trips a short distance from the den.

6 Years Old (11 Human Years)- Children follow their parents every night to learn how to find food and avoid danger.

Yerv learns how to forage in the desert, but is drawn to the abundance of food in the city.

10 Years Old (18 Human Years)- Young adults reach mature coloration and breeding age. Instinct pulls them away from the place where they were born and sends them wandering in search of a new territory and a mate. It often takes several years to earn a mate, and both males and females must prove they can maintain shelter, find food, and offer emotional support to a potential partner.

Yerv works for a band of traveling desert merchants in exchange for food and protection to find the quickest path to a new territory in the north.

The First Cold Winter is WarmestThe snowflakes were numerous as grains of wind-blown sand. They dimmed the sunset and brought a freezing, premature nightfall. Bundled humans hurried past the lure of shop windows aglow with inviting warmth, toys, and tasty smells. A ribbon-clad tree towered over all from the place of honor cleared for it in the town square.
Hidden amongst rubbish in an alley where he could search for food unseen, Yerv was too miserable to enjoy it. He buried his hands in his coat sleeves and tried to thaw them against his arms. He shivered and watched his breath form clouds in front of his muzzle. The unnatural sight gave him a different kind of chill. Though his kin assured him this was a normal byproduct of harsh northern winters, it still gave him the creeps.
When feeling returned to his fingers he dipped his hand into a pocket and read the imprints left on the coins he had collected. None of their stories were very interesting (all had traded human hands in exchange for work and been lost on the s A Ghoulish DilemmaDetective Travis Hade regretted his timing the moment he dipped his pen into the inkwell. Thunderous knocks threatened to bust his office door off its hinges, and he jumped high enough to bang his knee on his desk. The inkwell toppled on its side. It rolled, trailing an oily stain, and fell off the desk with a petite smashing sound. Travis leapt from his chair and ran to the door.
Like an impatient bear, Sergeant Kaighn wouldn’t let up until his demands were answered. Travis threw open the door and looked up at the sergeant’s broad face. “What can I help you with, Sir?” he said.
The sergeant grinned. “You take care of that crazy wag?” he said.
Travis grimaced. He spun around and pulled the papers away from the spreading pool of ink. “Just a moment,” he said, fumbling for his pen. He dipped it into the spill and signed his name on the report. “Yes, Sir,” he said. “Mr. Loupinacci has paid the fine, and I advised Mrs. Weath From the Strong, Something SweetThe vampire’s ninth victim was found with sticks jammed in the four ragged holes marring her throat. A branch had been snapped from the tree her body was propped against, broken in two, and shoved up her nostrils. Her glazed eyes stared at the detectives, mercifully unaware of this final indignity.
Detective Vimont shook his head. “Takes a special kind of twisted mind wants to turn himself into the undead,” he said.
Cricket songs filled the night air. Frogs croaked from the pond in the center of the little park. Under less tragic circumstances Detective Travis Hade would have considered it a relaxing environment. He took off his coat and knelt beside the woman. He removed the foreign objects, laid her on the ground, and draped the coat over her. Detective Coleson had already been sent to fetch the undertaker. Storm clouds rolled over the stars. A light drizzle fell, signaling the tightening grip of spring. Droplets of the victim’s blood mingled with the fresh wa

Texture used is taken from my own stock.