resourceful.

Dixie-May Jackson · 10-31-2011, 01:06 AM

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can anyone guess what her little brain is cooking up? xD anyone can join, no more than 2 plz.

Word Count → 537

During their travels all over North America, Dixie had become adept at making baskets. It was something that her mother taught her to do when she was a tiny girl, unable to ride the horses for fear of getting hurt. Previously she’d had no way to transport them, and no reason either, so they had only been made as gifts for friends in passing. Now though, with the wagon in their possession, she had made a lot! The poor girl was easily bored, but weaving was soothing and time consuming, therefore Wayne would shove a handful of grasses and threads into her hands when she was stressed or too hyper, and she’d get to work. After making them so many times she had become pretty damn good at making a tight weave, some of the baskets were mostly waterproof even.

Problem was…neither of them had much of an idea of what to do with the things. The ranged in size, the smallest being the size of a fat watermelon and the biggest was a little over a foot deep and maybe two feet in diameter. They would be good for picking fruits and vegetables, perhaps fishing and collecting other small materials. Of course they wouldn’t be useful if there wasn’t anything to pick or catch, which was something that Dixie was beginning to believe. The biggest creature besides the horses and the canines that she’d seen inside the walls of the fort was a plump little squirrel. Obviously not enough to feed even her own tiny self. Frustrated with the lack of substantial game within reach, she began pacing and weaving at the same time. There was already a stack, thirteen baskets high, leaning against the wall in the corner of their basement bedroom.

Huffing and stomping her little foot, she tossed down the half woven thing and crossed her arms tightly over her chest, glaring at it. A few moments passed before she realized what it was that she was looking at…the partial basket had landed atop her other materials…covering them almost completely. Idea! She made an awful squeally noise and darted to the corner, grabbed as many baskets as she could carry, and ran towards the stairs. Getting to the ground floor was challenging, but not impossible. Once outside, she howled very softly, head tossed back and jaws parted slightly. Ears flicked forward just as the call ended, waiting for anyone to respond if they thought she was calling them, but really listening for the hoof beats. And there they were. Duke came round the corner of the Court House at a slow trot, prancing slightly as he approached.

There was rope inside, so Dixie set the baskets down and grabbed some of the rope, tying them all together and then pulling herself up onto the patient stallion’s back. He tossed his head and shifted a bit, moving his body to accommodate hers as she leaned over to pull the basket string up. After wrapped the rope around her waist and chest, she curled one hand into Duke’s mane and rubbed her heels on his sides, cooing softly as he began walking at a contented pace. They were good friends, those two.

Image courtesy of PNNL@Flickr; table code by the Mentors!

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