A Paradox with Flies

Marika Russo · 04-17-2010, 02:13 PM

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Oooh, I broke the "i" once on an old laptop. Pain in the ass, I know. Smile
wc 260

The young girl's speech was practised, rehearsed on that long boat ride across the beautiful Atlantic. Really, what else was there for one to do? She wondered if it sounded mechanical to the man, and hoped not; she strove for creativity in what she did. But she was young, and still learning. Often the girl was impatient.

At his question, a knowing and perhaps even satisfied smile spread across her gaunt face. Her family was here. It was the last confirmation she needed, and the success of it left her very pleased. She nodded smoothly, her tail giving a single, brisk wag above her curvaceous form. "Yes, I seek them, also. Rurik is my grandfather; the other two aunts and uncles, I think." This time her grin was directed right to the tawny-furred male. She was flattered that he had asked her such a question, rather than keeping everything clean-cut and businesslike. But she understood that the latter were needed qualities of conversations such as these, and next he asked of her something that was, she presumed, standard, and she answered the best she could.

"I am an healer, an apothecary," she spoke, stumbling slightly over the difficult English word. Healing was something that came naturally to her, as she loved the feeling of helping others mend. She wanted to add that she could dance as the gypsies danced, but how could this benefit the pack? Perhaps she would share this little bit about herself with others, after her acceptance. "I would love to assist your pack in this way."

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