Idylls of the King

Nayru · 01-02-2011, 03:49 AM

tables by lin!

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yarg. We can rap it up. Short! I’m sorry.

Pausing mid-gnaw, Pripyat looked up at the man who seemed to think that gathering flowers with one’s teeth was the wrong way to do it. Sighing inwardly, Pripyat nodded and began to just choose the flowers, not minding the change of procedures but feeling as if he too should be able to uproot the plants and put them in the growing pile. Once enough were assembled he looked at the bouquet his father presented to him. Having no experience with such gifts the boy could only go off of his own judgment and the flowers did look nice, although they had looked nice when they were in the ground too. What really mattered was if Geneva would like them.

With a triumphant smile he looked from the flowers to his father. "Yes, she will like ‘em." and with that Pripyat turned toward the lighthouse, ready to start in. Before he got but a few steps his tiny paws paused and he turned back to look at his father and the pile of flowers. Did Jefferson want to enter with him? Would Geneva be pleased with that or not? Unsure suddenly, as if perhaps having spent time with his father without his mother’s knowledge was wrong, the small grey boy looked cautiously up to the grizzled leader for direction. "Should I gife ‘em to mowter or should you?" Such important issues were concealed in the question, and Pripyat's eyes were wide, waiting to see what the man decided.

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