the state of my severed hands
#7
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I really love your writing style. Just thought I'd say. <3

my nymphetamine girl !


After he'd finished speaking, Moose leaned closer to the book, probably examining the cover to see if he could make sense of what Kansas was saying. Reading was a hard thing to grasp - it had taken him months to become a good, comprehending reader. He'd started young, so he supposed that was a reasonable amount of time for a pup to fully understand the concepts. It must be easier at an older age. And something about Moose the Wild told Kansas he was very intelligent... he would surely learn quickly.



He paused, listening closely to Moose's words. When the ashen man had finished, Kansas smiled mildly. It was an easy thing to misunderstand. One had to read the book to know what the title meant. The Sadira stared absently at the cover for a moment or so, trying to determine how to answer the question. To himself, he was flattered that Moose had questions at all. "This story isn't about catching birds... It... it means something much... deeper. That's why books are important - to me at least, and to some others. You learn all kinds of things. Stuff you never realized you wanted to know, but th-that are valuable." Another small smile. "Once you get reading, you can borrow this book and find out what the the title really means. If you want."



He drummed his fingers against the cover, wanting to be sure Moose had said what he wanted to in response before continuing with the lesson.


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