02-18-2010, 06:22 PM
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Dette e rart når hu e dø. Fade out eller noge sånt?
Word Count: --
I am a part of all that I have met
It seemed as if her baby brother zoned out, and she eyed him suspiciously, though not openly so. He looked the same as he had always done, to her, no matter how his skin changed as he faced new trials and ordeals. Scars were merely proof that one was alive, and she had come to revere her own as marks of a long life, and tokens of luck. It had not been apparent to her until recently, with the coming of her children. It was strange, how the world had changed so suddenly — and dramatically. She spoke, and her brother returned to her, only to confuse her further. Cercelee no longer had the five pups in her care? Showed hos much Mew paid attention. Or rather, how much Cercelee focused on updating her cousin. The white femme assumed that her Rosea was always busy since she never came to visit, but perhaps there were different reasons behind her behavior. Whatever it was, Mew wished to know, though she would not go asking for it. Not even from her baby brother. Moving her front legs as if shrugging, Mew mumbled a disheartened sentence which meant nothing. "Oh well." Pausing, her posture revealed a moment of uncertainty. "I suppose she has her reasons." She did not mumble this time, but the tone of voice delivered the sentence almost like a question, as if she hoped her brother would offer her information, yet not. Moving her head to look behind her, she checked if she could make out her children back there, always needing to know where they were. She was not about to neglect them now that she had nearly died to have them, and not having them in sight or hearing range made her nervous.
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Dette e rart når hu e dø. Fade out eller noge sånt?
Word Count: --
It seemed as if her baby brother zoned out, and she eyed him suspiciously, though not openly so. He looked the same as he had always done, to her, no matter how his skin changed as he faced new trials and ordeals. Scars were merely proof that one was alive, and she had come to revere her own as marks of a long life, and tokens of luck. It had not been apparent to her until recently, with the coming of her children. It was strange, how the world had changed so suddenly — and dramatically. She spoke, and her brother returned to her, only to confuse her further. Cercelee no longer had the five pups in her care? Showed hos much Mew paid attention. Or rather, how much Cercelee focused on updating her cousin. The white femme assumed that her Rosea was always busy since she never came to visit, but perhaps there were different reasons behind her behavior. Whatever it was, Mew wished to know, though she would not go asking for it. Not even from her baby brother. Moving her front legs as if shrugging, Mew mumbled a disheartened sentence which meant nothing. "Oh well." Pausing, her posture revealed a moment of uncertainty. "I suppose she has her reasons." She did not mumble this time, but the tone of voice delivered the sentence almost like a question, as if she hoped her brother would offer her information, yet not. Moving her head to look behind her, she checked if she could make out her children back there, always needing to know where they were. She was not about to neglect them now that she had nearly died to have them, and not having them in sight or hearing range made her nervous.