He didn't find many things pretty.

Well, pretty in the sense that it kept his constant attention.

The vines outside were pretty, lively green with thorns to remind others that they were dangerous. The moon in the night sky was also pretty, the whitest shade of ivory he'd ever seen. And the animals, they too had their own beauty; to be so naturally curious, so naive and basic, they had a charm to them that always brought a smile to his face.

But they never held his attention for long. It wasn't that they were boring, far from that, and they weren't all that average; they've been with him for so many years that they've created their own special place in his nonexistent heart. No... this was just something... different.

It wasn't good, how can this possibly be something that should bring joy to another? but it wasn't bad either, it was natural in life, it's very own special kind of sentiment. And he always held a fine line between the two. Never a foot in the other for that would be unfair. To favor one over the other; such a ridiculous thought. But to the outsiders, one was always on their mind. He envied them for that, how can they live with only one? another absurd thought.

Sitting right here, staring at it- it wasn't a person anymore, it had been too many hours for it to be thought of as a person anymore. He felt something stir within him, something familiar- yet unfamiliar. A warmth that made him smile, a warmth that brought a new light to his eyes; that made him want to shrivel and dance all the same.

It was so pretty.

So attention-grabbing.

He couldn't take his eyes off it, tracing its features pore to pore; from the tip of its hair to the end of its toes. It made him smile.

He knew deep down that he shouldn't feel this happy to have seen it, hell; anyone at this point would have paid their respects, or shaken their heads at the familiar sight. It wasn't uncommon to find at least one or two laying around.

Maybe he should have left it alone. Allow nature to take back what it had let go. Or maybe he should have buried it, paid his own respects to what it once was; make them a memorial with flowers, small crafts, and goodwill.

But...

He frowned, gently prodding its decaying flesh.

The thought of leaving it had been upsetting.

It was weird, but... he didn't want to let it go, he didn't want to leave it there to rot and die and disappear into the ground. He didn't want to be alone again- another part of him seized in disgust. For years he had been adamant to keep that part of his magic at bay, had stuck with bringing rocks and sticks and even his broom and bowls to life- that's what he was told to allow. To never cross that fine line of necromancy even if he knew that he had the power to do so.

It was just so so pretty. He never felt anything like this before- to feel disgusted yet elated all the same. He wanted to dance under the moonlight, to hit himself over the head with a rock- to hold its hand for many years to come, to bury where he found it so it could finally sleep in peace. To just do what's best to do-

He stood up.

Eyes hardened and a determined frown on his face.

There was a chance that he could be making a mistake. It wouldn't be the first time nor the last- but something was urging him.

And for the first time in his inanimate life he felt determination. Determination to begin something he's never dared to even try before.

It wasn't like he could do this out of the blue! despite the abundance of them lying around, he knew he didn't have the heart to try this again.

It was just once. Just once that he'll do this; because he knows that he could never ignore this burning passion within him. Over the years, it'll dig its way out, and he'd feel something more than sadness.

It was pretty. Not in the sense that it was, but what it represented. More than just a pile of decaying flesh and blackening insides.

It... had been a person once. Probably a beautiful person with its own hopes and dreams and a unique personality.

It probably liked reading, or gardening, or cleaning a house.

It probably hated the rain or disliked eating spicy food.

It was probably scared of the dark, of being left alone and forgotten.

It probably had a family.

She had been loved once, was still probably loved- and she probably loved back-

His clasped hands tightened.

She was a person once. Forgotten in the middle of nowhere. Dead before anyone meaningful could stumble upon her broken body. She was all alone.

Until he found her.

This was okay then, she was pretty- lovely for the person that she once was, and for the first time in his life... it was okay.

He clapped his hands.

And the corpse before him opened her eyes.