[M]On a pedestal of my own making

Neela Garcia · 02-17-2012, 05:49 PM

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WC 258

The night was getting late, Neela had drunk a fair amount of whiskey and her "pillow" was, in Neela's opinion, rather comfortable. It was no surprise then that the collie was fighting to stay awake, her eyes dropping and half closed. An arm was wrapped around her shoulders and a head rested atop her own and Neela leaned into the hold, pulling her legs half up as Tony shifted so that she was now entirely leaning on him.

Neela felt a gentle pressure on her shoulder and comforting words in her ear. "Mhm." She mumbled in response, tail skimming slowly across the rock behind her. "Yer righ'. Na point dwellin' on 'er. T's what she would'a wanted anyway, me frettin an complainin' bout 'er, best ta just… forget." Neela snuggled deeper into Tony's side, taking a slow and sleepy sip of whiskey. "This's good stuff." she mumbled idly, holding the bottle up. The human label had long since worn off but there were still some marking etched into the glass. Neela held the bottle up between her and the nearest fire, squinting blearily at the symbols but between her tiredness and the amount of whiskey she had drunk she couldn’t make anything out.

Shrugging Neela fished a cork out of her belt pouch and sealed the whiskey, placing the bottle down gently. "Mebbe we can do this again s'metime." she muttered suddenly, her tired voice just loud enough for Tony to hear her, "I coul' get us some fish. Be nice ta' have some'ne ta drink with again"

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