05-22-2010, 03:27 AM
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Sorry if this post is wonky; I had about three different ideas of where to take it as I wrote. >.> wc:432
The woman’s curt apology provoked no further reaction from the Marino save for her continued stare. She saw the flash of violet eyes as the woman glanced over her one last time before slipping silently into the store. Lucia huffed like a spoiled little girl when she found herself alone outside again, ears folding back against her head in confusion and displeasure. Well, wasn’t that just nice? She eyed the continuously increasing rainstorm past the shattered veil, the pattering along the tarp’s thick fabric increasing in speed and volume as the storm picked up. She could find some other place to hole up in for the time being, but getting soaked to the bone in the process didn’t sound like much fun. Remaining out beneath the tattered rain-shelter wouldn’t exactly be a blast either. That left her with just following the other lady inside, then. A mix of frustration and embarrassment twirled in her belly at the thought.
Lucia opened the door after a moment of hesitation and tried to step in as quickly as she could to avoid being noticed, though with the way the sounds of the storm outside amplified within the old shop with the door open, it was altogether pointless. The younger girl slipped her way toward the rows of shelves she had seen holding the little white pots, hoping to get herself out of sight as quickly as she could. She stood and studied the little pots, feeling overall rather foolish. The Valley wolf let her inquisitive gaze drift along the room. It was dimly lit, but she could see cobwebs hanging in the corners and around shelves of unused merchandise. The place smelled strongly of rain, dust, and the odd materials the merchandise was made of, but the stranger had added her own scent to the mix. It was then that Lucia noticed something that her surprise and the powerful scent of fresh rain had hidden from her outside. This stranger smelled like Papa; she had to live in the same pack as him.
Suddenly the sandy-furred girl’s interest rose. She could hear the woman’s footsteps from somewhere further in the store, but the way the slight curve of the building’s roof reflected the sound made it hard to pinpoint her location. The girl peered around the large shelf she had hidden behind, hoping to catch another glimpse of the stranger now. “So you uh… you live in Crimson Dreams, yeah?” she called out. Her stubborn pride and youthful curiosity left her with this tentative question as her form of apology for her own discourteous behavior.
The woman’s curt apology provoked no further reaction from the Marino save for her continued stare. She saw the flash of violet eyes as the woman glanced over her one last time before slipping silently into the store. Lucia huffed like a spoiled little girl when she found herself alone outside again, ears folding back against her head in confusion and displeasure. Well, wasn’t that just nice? She eyed the continuously increasing rainstorm past the shattered veil, the pattering along the tarp’s thick fabric increasing in speed and volume as the storm picked up. She could find some other place to hole up in for the time being, but getting soaked to the bone in the process didn’t sound like much fun. Remaining out beneath the tattered rain-shelter wouldn’t exactly be a blast either. That left her with just following the other lady inside, then. A mix of frustration and embarrassment twirled in her belly at the thought.
Lucia opened the door after a moment of hesitation and tried to step in as quickly as she could to avoid being noticed, though with the way the sounds of the storm outside amplified within the old shop with the door open, it was altogether pointless. The younger girl slipped her way toward the rows of shelves she had seen holding the little white pots, hoping to get herself out of sight as quickly as she could. She stood and studied the little pots, feeling overall rather foolish. The Valley wolf let her inquisitive gaze drift along the room. It was dimly lit, but she could see cobwebs hanging in the corners and around shelves of unused merchandise. The place smelled strongly of rain, dust, and the odd materials the merchandise was made of, but the stranger had added her own scent to the mix. It was then that Lucia noticed something that her surprise and the powerful scent of fresh rain had hidden from her outside. This stranger smelled like Papa; she had to live in the same pack as him.
Suddenly the sandy-furred girl’s interest rose. She could hear the woman’s footsteps from somewhere further in the store, but the way the slight curve of the building’s roof reflected the sound made it hard to pinpoint her location. The girl peered around the large shelf she had hidden behind, hoping to catch another glimpse of the stranger now. “So you uh… you live in Crimson Dreams, yeah?” she called out. Her stubborn pride and youthful curiosity left her with this tentative question as her form of apology for her own discourteous behavior.