Word Count :: 3+ tis no problem :] Killjoy Caspa...
When he hopped down she had to resist an urge to dart forward and catch him. She was not quick or strong, but her reflexes were honed and sharp enough to do so. Of course, he landed easily and she was reminded again at her very limited experience with pups. She had no idea at what age or size they were capable of making sensible decisions about the kind of things they were capable of, so she tended to be overprotective, remembering her own brother taking a headfirst dive off a rock when they were small and damaging his foolish skull. This pup was older - or wiser than that, at least. His eyes shone an indistinct shade of emerald at her, reminding her of the King, Vigilante, and that plus an amount of family resemblance on the pale-gold child's features was enough for her to spring to the conclusion that this was a representative of the latest Haskel litter. He had the same lively, vital exuberance as Liam, his whole body electrified with an eager excitement. The thinking behind this became clear as he spoke, and Caspa listened in dismay, realising she had been spun into part of the fantasy of the night that by all rights she should not let him maintain. Such things as fairies and ghosts had no place in a sane and pragmatic world. "Why would there be fairies here," she asked him, quiet and neutral - "and why might I be a ghost?" Of course, he must draw great joy from his imagination-fuelled view of the world, and those shining eyes proved it. She could not bear to dash his make-believe, although she could not play along either, for fear of encouraging something that in the end, would only prove to be moonshine and pixie-dust anyway, perhaps breaking his innocent heart in the process.
Image courtesy of ®DS @ flickr; Table by the Mentors!
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