10-06-2011, 03:44 PM
ooc: Thanks for the little note in there that they’d met, I caught that. I wouldn’t have known!
She's being a very scatter brained child right now. She'll get back to the topic eventually.
IC:
As she listened to the man’s reply she inspected him, her eyes making no effort to hide their gaze as she looked him up and down. Everyone in Cercatori looked different, with all kinds of fur colors and different accessories, but this man looked different. Not like Mommy and Daddy looked different.
“Who painted your fur? Why do you look like that? Did Legba do it? Legba has a friend who looks like you, but he’s black. He doesn’t change though. He’s like me, but older.” she asked her questions a though she had already forgotten about the Pump Kins (though she had not; she was merely bouncing topics as any curious puppy would do). “And I forgot your name. Do you remember mine? And what made your voice like that?”
The issue of the Pump Kins still hung in the air and was divided into a little place in her puppy mind to return to later – probably while they were in the middle of something else.
Her eyes turned to the well and she eyed the brick. “Water? Those are bricks.” She cocked her head and eyeballed Rory like he was crazy. “Are you feeling okay? I can cure that.” The girl stood up and started sketching something in the dirt with her; it was the beginning of one of the symbols the girl drew frequently, but it didn’t look like anything. This was a new one that had come to her, and she was excited to try it out on the sick man.
She's being a very scatter brained child right now. She'll get back to the topic eventually.
IC:
As she listened to the man’s reply she inspected him, her eyes making no effort to hide their gaze as she looked him up and down. Everyone in Cercatori looked different, with all kinds of fur colors and different accessories, but this man looked different. Not like Mommy and Daddy looked different.
“Who painted your fur? Why do you look like that? Did Legba do it? Legba has a friend who looks like you, but he’s black. He doesn’t change though. He’s like me, but older.” she asked her questions a though she had already forgotten about the Pump Kins (though she had not; she was merely bouncing topics as any curious puppy would do). “And I forgot your name. Do you remember mine? And what made your voice like that?”
The issue of the Pump Kins still hung in the air and was divided into a little place in her puppy mind to return to later – probably while they were in the middle of something else.
Her eyes turned to the well and she eyed the brick. “Water? Those are bricks.” She cocked her head and eyeballed Rory like he was crazy. “Are you feeling okay? I can cure that.” The girl stood up and started sketching something in the dirt with her; it was the beginning of one of the symbols the girl drew frequently, but it didn’t look like anything. This was a new one that had come to her, and she was excited to try it out on the sick man.