09-16-2011, 07:06 PM
The voice stopped her dead in her tracks. Her ears perked, automatically swiveling to meet the sound first, then her eyes followed suit. She stood there stupidly for a moment before turning the rest of her body to face him. He approached her and a streak of hot impatience shot through her. She didn’t know the man, and she didn’t feel like getting to know him right now. Orin used to be happy for a meeting any time, but now after motherhood and the things that had happened to her she often felt irritated for no reason. She crossed her arms, and her tail swished around mildly. All she wanted was a few damn pumpkins.
Yet still, Orin was used to people catering to her, too, and perhaps somewhere in the back of her mind she hoped the man could help. She tried not to show her annoyance too easily, at least having the decency to not take her anger out on him, but she failed miserably.
“Some greeting,” she started to snap at him, then stopped herself. She didn’t even know this guy and he was poking inquiries at her already. Well, maybe she should lay off a little. After all, she didn’t know this guy. She sighed and started again. “I’m mad because the stupid pumpkins I planted in the garden won’t grow. Well, it’s not really that they won’t grow. They grew, just not well. Well, not the pumpkins, all there are are a few sick vines. They look awful, and I don’t know what to do to fix them.” She dropped her gaze for a moment, looking at her sopping feet, then decided she didn’t care.
But the next thing he said got her. The cloudy look on her face melted away as curiosity took over, her ears twitching once and her mouth forming a small little O as she processed what he was saying. “Wait, who do you know who celebrates holidays? I’ve never known anyone to…” she trailed off. Most of her life was spent moving; she’d never really stayed in one place long enough to ever even reach a holiday. Still, d’Arte didn’t have holidays. Not yet, at least. Sure, they had plenty of pack celebrations and parties, but they were all spur of the moment and without any deep meaning.
300+
Yet still, Orin was used to people catering to her, too, and perhaps somewhere in the back of her mind she hoped the man could help. She tried not to show her annoyance too easily, at least having the decency to not take her anger out on him, but she failed miserably.
“Some greeting,” she started to snap at him, then stopped herself. She didn’t even know this guy and he was poking inquiries at her already. Well, maybe she should lay off a little. After all, she didn’t know this guy. She sighed and started again. “I’m mad because the stupid pumpkins I planted in the garden won’t grow. Well, it’s not really that they won’t grow. They grew, just not well. Well, not the pumpkins, all there are are a few sick vines. They look awful, and I don’t know what to do to fix them.” She dropped her gaze for a moment, looking at her sopping feet, then decided she didn’t care.
But the next thing he said got her. The cloudy look on her face melted away as curiosity took over, her ears twitching once and her mouth forming a small little O as she processed what he was saying. “Wait, who do you know who celebrates holidays? I’ve never known anyone to…” she trailed off. Most of her life was spent moving; she’d never really stayed in one place long enough to ever even reach a holiday. Still, d’Arte didn’t have holidays. Not yet, at least. Sure, they had plenty of pack celebrations and parties, but they were all spur of the moment and without any deep meaning.
300+