03-29-2012, 05:21 AM
Caprica clicked her fingers as she walked, moving to the rhythm of an inaudible voice singing in her head. Before she knew it, the words were coming out of her own mouth. She had an unusual singing voice, one that coloured even her howls and other wolf vocalisations. It was deep, yet feminine: husky and lazy. She mostly sang when in a good mood, and her humour today was one inescapable. She had to constantly watch her mouth, to stop the song breaking out. She didn't want particularly the embarrassment of being overheard. Her mind drifted to the work of last night: a piece of copper wire pulled out of one of the common human cables that littered the land, twisted bent and woven into what was beginning to resemble a bird. Maybe a crow. That was an idea. She would finish that later. The thought brought still more exuberance to her mood and the woman unthinkingly let loose a few words of song. "Just going to let it flyy…" And then her hands clapped over her maw. How stupid she must sound. Caprica thought then that perhaps finishing the little model now was a better idea than parading her far-too-cheerful self around others, and headed back to her cave. Once there she surveyed the chaos. Heaps of gleaned human relics and found natural objects were scattered all around. She had not yet finished the construction of her shelves, but the cherry wood planks were lodged into crevices and balanced on tree stumps to make a temporary solution. Even they were covered in debris, though, meaning it would take even longer to get around to fixing them. Caprica heaved a long-suffering sigh and looked for her bird model. It was not on the shelf: and she growled frustratedly to realise she must have knocked it down, or had she moved it?
Her mood somewhat darkened, the Anatheman began to clatter around the cluttered cavern, knocking even more things over as she searched. From above the entrance, the hanging skull of a great stag stared down at her, his antlers hung with pieces of jewellery, a safe place compared to the rest of her room: all her precious things were kept there. In one of his eye sockets perched the little copper crow, a jaunty set to his head as if observing his maker's frustration amused him, being the cause of all the consternation.
Her mood somewhat darkened, the Anatheman began to clatter around the cluttered cavern, knocking even more things over as she searched. From above the entrance, the hanging skull of a great stag stared down at her, his antlers hung with pieces of jewellery, a safe place compared to the rest of her room: all her precious things were kept there. In one of his eye sockets perched the little copper crow, a jaunty set to his head as if observing his maker's frustration amused him, being the cause of all the consternation.