Boop. o:

Word Count → 308

Sparrow decided that morning to haunt the Mansion once more that day. Though the building itself raised little interest within herself, she did wonder about the ones who slept under its roof. As the days went by, she became more intent on knowing more about the coyotes of Inferni, and while she had met quite a few, there were many she still had not even heard of yet. She did not expect for the clan to bring out the sociable side of her, but, here she was, seeking out an unfamiliar face for her to get to know.

The mottled woman came to the conclusion it was best for her to approach D’Neville in her optime form, since paws would prove futile against the knobs on the doors, and for the fact that it’ll make conversation easier for the more humanized coyotes. Though, when she was approaching the porch, her ears caught the sound of something—was someone talking? No, it was something more musical than that, though she was certain it was not a bird. It was faint, but Sparrow was nonetheless curious as to what it source was, and circled around the building, looking upon a see-through building.

The singing had stopped, but the hybrid swore it was coming from somewhere near here, and took the guess it must have been coming from the greenhouse. Quietly, she entered, and was met with warmth she did not except, as well as the scent of many different plants. She sneezed, and after rubbing her eyes from the small tears her sneeze produced, she saw a golden-haired beauty, which seemed to be messing with the smelly vegetation. “Greetings,” she said softly though friendly, slightly waving a tan hand in her direction. The woman seemed nice enough, judging by her appearance, so Sparrow felt only half as shy as usual.

Word Count → 335

Sparrow blinked in surprise at the blonde’s eyes. They were peculiar—one was a soft green, then other a blue. She had never seen both colors on the same face before, but for some reason, it fitted the fair-haired girl. She found herself looking at Emmanuelle’s face instead of her gaze being down casted to the ground because of them, and hoped that she did not take it to offense; she was raised not to make eye contact, as if it was an act of rebellion. The fawn just found her eyes intriguing, and the more she spent thinking about it, the more curious about them she came to be.

“Actually… I think, I mean, I did hear singing… I’ll help, if you want, though.” For a moment, she glanced around the glass house, and added, “What are you doing, exactly?” She was quiet for a moment as the hybrid introduced herself, and replied with her own name, “Sparrow, Miss Emmanuelle. Sister of Vesper, if you know her.” She had rejected her surname the moment she left Marcel, finding it as a title that only denounced her. Now, she felt more honorable by referring herself as a sibling of the Centurion, their relation more important to Sparrow than with her monster of a father.

The woman watched Emma sweep for a moment, and asked, “What is that?”, referring to both the things that were scattered around the floor, wondering if she had dropped something on the floor, as well as the object in her hands. She was not one that was familiar with tools, even the most basic ones; the broom was foreign to her, and while it seemed obvious it was used to swat away what seemed to be useless items, she was curious if it had any other use besides that. Sparrow was the sister that was interested in the oddities, while Vesper seemed to be more practical when it came to these things. Both were bold and reserve in their own ways.

I thought your post was good.~ <3

Word Count → 425

Sparrow saw that the woman seemed uncomfortable as she mentioned the singing, and quickly regretted saying anything about it. She wanted to say it was good, despite not hearing it that well, or that she, too, sang alone, that it was nothing unusual. But, Emmanuelle did not speak about it, so she kept her mouth closed, knowing she would be stuttering about for an appropriate apology instead of spitting it out and did not want to bring it up again in case it would cause the female further discomfort. She returned the blonde’s smile, the action coming more smoothly than she thought it would despite the guilt swimming in her mind.

She blinked as the tool was handed to her, and turned the shaft around in her hand, even going as far as to brush it gently across the floor, though she was careful not to make a mess. Sparrow guessed it was useful, if it was used to keep dirt out, which did not harm her at all though others might have felt otherwise. “That would hurt,” she said, being a bit obvious without realizing it, “I mean, even the smallest of splinters hurt. But getting hit with broken wood…” She frowned a bit at the thought, but smiled again as she thought of its effectiveness as both a cleaning thing and a weapon thing, gaining her overall approval.

“Yeah, I guess I’m lucky,” Sparrow agreed, and even went further to say, “I wish I could be a bit more like her.” This was true—the younger sister wished she could have been more confident and bold like the older one, but was not spiteful nor jealous, though she see herself striving to be more like her. “In any case, I’m glad she helped you. Vesper is a good person, even if she can be a braggart at time,” she said frankly though kindly, a smile playing on her muzzle as she spoke of her sister.

She looked around the greenhouse for a moment, but turned back to Emma as she spoke again, and nodded eagerly, adding, “That would be nice.” Sparrow was keen on learning things and did wonder as to why the plants were there, and decided to voice her curiosity. “What are they used for, anyway? I thought plants were just… plants.” The woman thought that mentioning how smelly they were was a bit childish, and refrained from saying such, though she had to rub her nose from the strong scent once more as the thought came to mind.

ooc here

Word Count → 477

Sparrow watched as she pruned and preened some plant she did not have a name for as she spoke of Vesper. It seemed that the fair-haired woman understood her words better than what she thought she would have, and wondered if she had a sister herself, perhaps even living in Inferni as well. But, she did not comment about it out loud, and the mottled coywolf decided to let her questions fall mute; she herself had family she was not proud about, and perhaps it was the same cause for Emmanuelle. There were some things that she did not have the heart to pry out of others, and familial matters were one.

She nodded, understanding her words so far. It made sense, at least. She looked at the green plant that she handled, and Sparrow took a whiff of the smell herself. It was strange, something she had never scented beforehand. “…What’s ‘high’?” she asked, a bit confused at Emma’s words. The Praeses was certain that the Aedile did not mean that the plant helped canines get literally taller, and wondered if it was useful despite it not being medically beneficial. The woman hoped that the question was not silly, since she spoke about it like it was common knowledge.

Sparrow regarded the honeysuckle closely as the woman told her about it, listening carefully as she admired the flowers. For a moment, she wondered what mint was, and how she was able to get honey without getting stung like awful, but she withheld her questions she reached for a fruiting bud and nibbled on it, speaking about how sweet it was. The coywolf glanced as she skipped off to the next example, staying by the honeysuckles for a moment longer. Having a sweet tooth herself, and never coming across something sugary in the wild, started to reach for a flower, but thought better of it, unsure if she was allowed to eat it.

She had made it to Emmauelle’s side in time to be handed a purple thing. Doing as what she was instructed, she lifted her hand to her nose and breathed it in the smell the flower provided. Sparrow smiled pleasantly at the scent, and cradled the bud carefully between her paws as to not damage it, as if it was a living creature. She listened eagerly and patiently to the Aedile’s talk about it and its twin, finding her talk as relaxing as the lavender’s properties. She blinked as she became quiet, and asked softly, “Is that all? There must be more—I mean, there are so many plants… There’s got to be more to it, especially the healing parts.” She soaked information like a sponge, as usual, and felt as empty in mind as if she had learned nothing new, having so much room to learn more, especially for important things like this.

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Word Count → 654

Sparrow saw that Emma caught her haunting around the honeysuckles, and ears pressed lightly against her skull as she thought she was about to scold her when she zipped back over to the yellow flowers. But, instead of getting lashed with some words, she was handed some of the buds, which she looked at with surprise. “Oh,” the woman murmured as the Brenna explained that there was no need for her to think that she was not allowed to touch them. Handling the honeysuckles carefully between her two hands, she bunched them up to cup in her left paw while the other lifted a flower to her mouth, which she started to chew on tenderly. Like the fair-haired girl had said, the taste was sweet, and smiled silently, no words needed to explain that she found the honeysuckles delectable.

While she slowly ate the flowers, she listened to Emmanuelle’s explanation of the high. She frowned as she mentioned that they breathed in the smoke from the fire, and thought that it must have been unpleasant to have burning air creeping down one’s throat and would make them cough. But, she remained quiet as the girl continued to explain. “I haven’t saw anyone smoking, no,” she commented, and realized that she rarely saw the Aquila besides when they plotted of the Boreas’ downfall with the Salsolans that eventful day, in which he did not have a cigarette. Sparrow blinked as she got her answer about how smoking could have been pleasant, and glanced over where Emma pointed out the marijuana. When she spoke of relaxation, she became a bit more interested, but decided to ask about it later, wanting to learn more about the other plants in the greenhouse.

She smiled as it seemed that it pleased the Aedile that she wanted to know more. But, it faltered to become a small grimace as the blonde woman’s expression became dark as she continued to talk. Sparrow watched as she brushed her scars, and she herself began to rub her arms, where unseen bruises laid, as well as four perpendicular scars on her right arm, both escaping her mind until that moment. Though quiet, it was obvious that she agreed with Emma, though she found no words give to express such. When she mentioned death, her mind immediately went to the gray girl that had lost her father, of Ataxia screaming at the wolf that helped its part to kill the D’Angelo man. The mottled woman shivered at the scene, and did not let it linger long in her mind as the Brenna changed the topic to something more peaceful.

She paid close attention to the words about meadowsweet as Emmanuelle commented that it was important. After the explanation, she was handed more samples, and gladly accepted it, again savoring treats that the Aedile was spoiling her with. At the next plant, Sparrow scented the air around it with a deep breath, expecting it to be soft and relaxing. Instead, she was greeted by something strong, and sneezed in surprise, and again had to rub her nose to calm it down. But, all the while she closely listened, and had to take a step back in her mind to go over all what she had learned, and was appalled at how useful seemingly meager plants could have been.

“I will have to find a hive soon, then… I would not mind trying out that tea, it sounds like it’s worth the trouble,” Sparrow said with a humorous smile, though she was sincere. She often did not indulge in pleasantries, but after tasting so many things, and craving them even more, she did look forward to be able to create the tea when she and Emmanuelle had the time. She shook her head as Emma asked if she had any questions, following along easily with her teachings, and was obviously eager to hear more from the woman.