Cleaning House

Orin Takekuro · 11-20-2010, 07:47 PM

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5 points

“Ohhh, I see. See, there I go sounding stupid,” she giggled and tapped her finger on her muzzle. When the wood suddenly dislodged under Kanen’s force, Orin leaped back barely in time to save her toes from being smashed. She looked down in relief, then returned to pulling on the boards, helping Kanen free the shop entrance.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Actually the weather doesn’t really get as harsh down in Florida as it does here, so I don’t really know what to expect – I’ve read about snowstorms though. This will be my first full winterr here. My brother and I traveled to Nova Scotia in February, which was cold and stormy enough… Oh tail-fluff! That reminds me, I left my cloak in the Court. I’ll have to make a trip to get it… Aaanyway… We came by boat, bartered passage with some sailors. Sometimes it felt like we’d never make it. And oh my god, I though I would puke if I ever had to eat another fish… but actually now I kind of like them. It reminds me of that journey, you know? What we accomplished.” A dreamy look overcame her visage as she went on about her past.

More boards clattered to the ground as she made small talk, and soon the two women had the blockade reduced to a stack of planks. A smile crossed her maw when Kanen invited her to stay whenever she needed. Although she had been living in a pack ever since she came to the northern lands, the warmth and hospitality provided by them was still a unique and special thing to her. After her traumatizing childhood and living on the run for so long, pack life was never something that Orin would take for granted. “Thank you. I would love to stay over some nights. Oh! And I’ll make use of myself, too. I could bring over a recipe book and we could try something new, or share stories! By the way, what is it you do, anyway?” One ear lay back when she asked this, and she cocked her head. She was referring to what medium of art Kanen was interested in, for it was her understanding that everyone in D’Arte appreciated art. She was very curious.

She heaved against the door and budged with no small amount of protest as the rusted hinges fought to stay closed. Still her Luperci strength was able to force the unwilling door to open, and she peered into the store. The shelves and cases within were covered in years of dust, unkempt, and some broken. She slipped inside, waving Kanen after her, and began to inspect one set of shelves. “Even if we can’t find a hammer here, anything that’s formidable enough to bash with will work. Or we can try another shop.”

Thinking of other shops, she suddenly remembered something Kanen said, and turned to her with interest. “Oh! Which store is that? What color do you want to paint. I’ll help, if you want! But you should probably do it soon, before the weather gets too harsh or it’ll never dry. You think the paint’s still good, or do you know someone here who can make some?”

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