"I feel like I should have asked earlier," she said. Already the vixen took a seat on a nearby rock, expecting a long explanation. "How did you die?"

He smiled, melancholic, while all she could do was stare back sheepishly. Was it really the right question to ask? Spirits rarely stayed behind after the death of their living body; it seemed a waste of an opportunity to ask something so obvious. Then again, it had to come up at some point...

"I passed away not too long ago," he started. "It has only been a few months." The deer's pallid, ethereal form drifted towards a second rock. He remained floating above it, doing his best to seem like he was sitting down. The fire glowed between them, but its light only shone on the vixen. Under that light, the ghost seemed to belong to another world. More than usual, at least. The vixen leaned forward despite herself; from their short time together, she had learned that he wove a story as finely as an acrobat wove their body around obstacles.

He took a deep breath, despite not needing air in his unlife. It was all part of the theatrics. Just a moment later, he began recounting...

Hopefully no one minds how much this clashes with all my other posts. I spent a lot of effort on it though, and I feel like it's worth sharing, even if only to maybe get feedback on how to improve.

Enjoy, I hope.