This man was great at letting her vent, and moreover he went right along with her, thinking about the situation she described and adding to it in his own way. She nodded along with him, a 'yeah, you get it' look on her face and occasionally a few muttered sub-verbals of uh-huh and yeah would sneak out of her. Then he said something about a punishment and she could not hide the distaste that the thought summoned. Her ears laid back, golden eyes narrowed into angry slits, and one lip curled for a moment in annoyance. Though her displeasure was not at the man.
“Oh, don't even get me started on punishment...” She said, balling her hands up into small fists. But it was too late, she was started. She crossed her arms across her chest and took on a 'can you believe this' countenance. “The little... little... jerk Shawchert had the nerve to punish both of us. I didn't even do anything but defend myself! And I didn't see him having to deal with some great punishment, no. He just got to stand around having that male ego stroked while two women nearly killed each other over him. The funny part is I don't even like him. I mean, I like him, he's my friend and my alpha, but I'm not in love with him and I know that. But Sky just made me so... so mad that there was nothing to do but fight.”
She paused for a second, seething. “So, after all of this, as if it wasn't all embarrassing enough, Shawchert orders us both to report to one of the buildings in the square, ties our arms together-” she held up an arm for emphasis “and has the gall to tell us that we need to turn this place into a stable. Some crap about having to work together as a pack.” She shook her head mournfully. “It was humiliating. The punishment did not fit the crime. Not on my end, at least, I swear it.
“What's more, I've been sick as a dog and the work took a lot out of me. But you can bet I let Sky do most of the hard stuff,” she sighed and shook her head. She was finally winding down. Blowing off steam helped her greatly, and in the last few minutes since Bart's arrival she had gotten to both cry and vent, and now the balance inside of her was getting back to normal.
“Anyway...” It was as though mentioning that she had been sick suddenly reminded her that she did not feel very well, so she turned and paced away from Bartholomew and took a seat at the desk she had brought over from one of the other abandoned shops. She propped her elbow on the desk and rested her head in her hand, her eyes turned back to her friend. Or, her friend's brother. Or, well, her new friend.
It was funny for what looked like Mars to be asking her her name. Looking at that so-familiar face she had completely forgotten that he would not know it. She smiled apologetically. “Oh, I forgot you wouldn't know it yet. I'm Orin Takekuro.”
She nodded and giggled softly, “Yes, I live here. My bedroom is upstairs, though it's still a work in progress. I read all the time... well... I've been having trouble concentrating the last couple of days so I haven't really read much lately.” She looked sad for a moment. Not being able to visit the worlds of fantasy that lie in the pages of the books really took a toll on her. That, and the recent stress, were a terrible combination, and a vicious cycle. She could not read because she was stressed, and she was stressed because she could not read.
“I am a Writer. I'm still at the earliest rank but I am about to present some material to the leaders to see if I can advance a level,” she was proud about this. “I am also working on putting together a book of Cercatori's history. Skye... a different Skye, Skye with an E... said that if I get the project started and keep up with it that I can also be the pack's historian. You're welcome to take a look around if you want. See anything you like, you can borrow it.”
“So then, are you officially a member of Cercatori, too?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or are you just visiting?”
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