M. Censored

Barrett · 06-16-2011, 03:03 AM

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Barrett smirked knowingly; so what if they'd just met? He understood exactly what kind of “plants” she was talking about. “Guess so, yea,” he agreed. Nothing in the greenhouse had grown substantially since he started tending to it again, but the outdoor crop was already doing better—in the absence of those pesky male plants, the females weren't wasting as much energy going to seed. “Hadn't realised we had random stragglers growin' 'round,” he mused, wondering if he ought to check out these mystery plants on his own some time. He wasn't so selfish as to consider pillaging their intoxicating flowers (he had enough bud, and he was hardly looking to monopolise the market), but he might swipe a few seeds to see if the strand was worth adding to his repertoire (or even hybridising with the existing plants).

The youth watched as the girl—no, woman—stepped forward to get a better view, a move that ironically afforded him the same pleasure. Her coat was a pure, silky white, untarnished by the silvers, greys, and tans that usually accented those of paler colouration. She was larger in stature than he'd anticipated, but she carried her weight well. His gaze trailed over the curve of her hip, the crook of her waist, and up to her face. Her eyes were a vibrant forest green, a far cry from the yellows, reds, and chartreuse found frequently around his birth pack. Though there was appreciation in that look, he was careful not to let his eyes get too comfortable or linger even a moment too long. She seemed a little apprehensive, something hardly unreasonable—nevertheless, his slight slouch, half-drooping ears and eyelids, and lazily swaying tail all spoke volumes: Barrett was harmless.

“Hah! Barry, please,” he chuckled, offering his hand. Though his body had become very adult, he was trapped in a teenage mindset—others addressing him as anything else didn't feel right yet. It was a stroke to his ego, perhaps, but in this case he was feeling too loose and silly for such formalities to be appropriate. “Make yourself at home,” he added, gesturing toward the couch and the goodies placed on the table before it. “Just us, hope you're not too disappointed,” he joked with a wink. “But nah, I'm just the groundskeeper,” he added playfully. Somehow saying his mommy had put it all together didn't seem very cool.

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