07-09-2009, 06:44 PM
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300+
Huddling close to her uncle, her body was twisted in a way that seemed uncomfortable. But she seemed to fit into that strange shape with ease, and it didn’t seem to bother her. The young pup was only glad that she was not alone here and that she could be save with Uncle Ehno. He seemed to know why the sky wanted to be scary when it was dark like it was outside, but the reasoning of the clouds seemed to not make sense to her. The round eyes turned to look at the way she had come, a little frown on her face as she gave a little pout. "Ma sono paurosi!" she exclaimed with an unhappy and nervous mewl. She was silent for a moment as if contemplating something of great significance. She shifted into a more comfortable position, laying down and leaning against her uncle’s much larger form. "Non amo la pioggia, ma il loro urlare." Her little head rested for a moment upon the adult’s leg. "Sono solitari?" That would make her sad that she had said mean things if they were lonely. Sometimes she was mad when no one wanted to play with her at a particular moment. Maybe the angry clouds were the same.
Her uncle was warm, so she just lay there, her wide eyes looking around the dark building. Maybe, if she had been alone, this dark place would have been scary. But with her uncle, this place was only mysterious. "Un mulino a vento?" the little girl repeated, flipping over so that she was laying on her back, those little paws dangling up in the air. With her head still resting on his leg, Amata smiled up at him. "Costruiscono delle cose buffe!" She giggled noisily, stopping short only when there was another thunder of protest. She turned her head for a moment as if expecting the thunder and the clouds to stomp in through the door. When there was nothing, she turned back to her Uncle Ehno, who was telling her something. She gave a small giggle again, a bubbly sound, as her tail wagged with sweeping strokes on the floor. "Lei ha avuto un buono sogno, Zio Ehno?" There was excitement in her voice. Sometimes her dreams were fun. But sometimes they were bad, too.
300+
Huddling close to her uncle, her body was twisted in a way that seemed uncomfortable. But she seemed to fit into that strange shape with ease, and it didn’t seem to bother her. The young pup was only glad that she was not alone here and that she could be save with Uncle Ehno. He seemed to know why the sky wanted to be scary when it was dark like it was outside, but the reasoning of the clouds seemed to not make sense to her. The round eyes turned to look at the way she had come, a little frown on her face as she gave a little pout. "Ma sono paurosi!" she exclaimed with an unhappy and nervous mewl. She was silent for a moment as if contemplating something of great significance. She shifted into a more comfortable position, laying down and leaning against her uncle’s much larger form. "Non amo la pioggia, ma il loro urlare." Her little head rested for a moment upon the adult’s leg. "Sono solitari?" That would make her sad that she had said mean things if they were lonely. Sometimes she was mad when no one wanted to play with her at a particular moment. Maybe the angry clouds were the same.
Her uncle was warm, so she just lay there, her wide eyes looking around the dark building. Maybe, if she had been alone, this dark place would have been scary. But with her uncle, this place was only mysterious. "Un mulino a vento?" the little girl repeated, flipping over so that she was laying on her back, those little paws dangling up in the air. With her head still resting on his leg, Amata smiled up at him. "Costruiscono delle cose buffe!" She giggled noisily, stopping short only when there was another thunder of protest. She turned her head for a moment as if expecting the thunder and the clouds to stomp in through the door. When there was nothing, she turned back to her Uncle Ehno, who was telling her something. She gave a small giggle again, a bubbly sound, as her tail wagged with sweeping strokes on the floor. "Lei ha avuto un buono sogno, Zio Ehno?" There was excitement in her voice. Sometimes her dreams were fun. But sometimes they were bad, too.