You can’t do this!

Titania Moonsong · 11-11-2011, 04:50 PM

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OOC For Skye. Shawchert’s presence is optional.I may include Orin as well, we’ll see if there’s a place for her after your posts. Back dated to November 8. 400+

No way! He couldn’t do this! Who does he think he is? Okay, well, he is her father but still in her mind he didn’t have any right. She was a grown woman now, she was old enough to change into her beautiful Optime form and had ascended within the pack’s ranks from Cucciola to Venditore. He couldn’t tell her what to do anymore, not if he was going to pull a stunt like this. She was a fair member of the pack and Skye’s charge now, and she would see his irrational penance overruled. Shawchert was going to eat his words, Skye would see how absurd her father was acting and hopefully give him the ear full that he deserved!

All she wanted was to do something nice for her mother, but her dad was being ungrateful. What, was he the only one who could do anything for her? Now that she was old enough to look after herself Titania had taken a trip out of the pack lands to the Halcyon Mountains in search of one of those llama-ma-jigs her mother wanted. Sure, she didn’t end up catching one and came back empty handed, but it was the thought that counted, right? It’s not like she meant to be gone for so long.

It had nothing to do with that, she thought. Nothing to do with the fact that she’d gone and come back, she knew it in her gut. What had him ticked was that she was honest and admitted that she had met someone out there. She didn’t even get to tell him how she felt about Zalen, about the miracle that had happened at the lake or their run in the valley. Like any father he’d just made up his mind, figuring her too stupid to make decisions for herself.

Of course… these were all just her insane, angst-filled thoughts brought on by her adolescence, but still, it’s what she believed. She dwelled on them as she stalked down the Thornbury street, fuming. She walked so brusquely that the wind tugged at her wild hair. At some point in the fray she’d found time to attach the two black feathers she found in the nest at the Terrace in her hair, just like Zalen wore them.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, shooting a glare behind her to see if her father was following. She didn’t care, he couldn’t scare her out of it. She was taking this to Skye.

Up the stairs she leaped, clearing the porch in one bound. She rapped furiously on the door, her anger making the knock drum out demanding and vulgar.

Image courtesy of mourner@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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