It was time to figure out where the hell he was. Why was he here every time he woke up from being Mars? Why was Mars into the place so much, and why the hell didn't Mars smell of the Court anymore? Bartholomew had been confused as to why everything smelt different and why he was in a different place, but in the same place everytime he woke up. Mars had not explained to Bartholomew that he was moving, and Bartholomew had not been around the whole night that Orin and Mars had gotten together and Mars had decided that he would make his home right next door to where Orin lived. Orin had been one of Mars' only friends, so he had wanted to stay close, you could say, that and well....D'Arte seemed to be the right place for Mars to be at. The court was nice and all, but the ranks were just not for him. There was no reason for him to better himself in the pack since all of his skills were not of use to the Court. Least the ones he wanted to be known for. He didn't want to be known as something he was not really interested in, you know? Anyways, this was all information that Bartholomew was clueless about because these were pieces of information that were stuck within the closed door that lead from Bartholomew's brain into Mars' brain.
Bartholomew looked around the shop that was Mars' house now. He looked around it, grimacing as he did look around. He didn't like the place that Mars picked out, but then again, it was just because Bartholomew had nothing to do with the choice. Bartholomew would be the one involved in decorating, this was a given fact that all would become aware of if anyone ever caught onto the fact that there was Mars, and then a separate entity known as Bartholomew. Bart had walked through the smaller house/store that had little things in it still. Bartholomew would figure out what to do later, but for now, he just needed to get out of this place. He was quick to walk out of the store door and he looked around the front yard. He wondered where Vox was. He could care less about the sheep, for it wasn't his. He did like to look at it sometimes though, and he probably would look for it later, and secretly. He'd never touch it, or go near it, even when it tried to come near him for attention. Bart was cold enough to always walk away before the sheep had a chance to get too close.
Bartholomew stepped off the porch and started to walk to the left, trying to find a way out of here before he had walked straight to his neighbor's house, or store. Whatever it was. He looked up at it for a minute or so, long enough for the sheep to make it's way over to Bartholomew without him realizing. When it got up to him, it pushed it's head into Bart's hand. Bart quickly pulled his hand away, and gave the sheep a surprised look. The sheep batted an ear and then gave Bart a 'baa'. Bart walked away from the sheep without even a thought and he moved to go into the bookstore. Bart opened the door and walked in, the damn black sheep following behind rather obediently. Is anyone here? Bartholomew called out, wondering if anyone was here...
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| mall fonts; text-align:right;">present personality: Bartholomew Cubbins |