all the choices in the world
#11
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He hasn't done anything bad this time, so he avoids a slap in the face. FOR NOW.


One ear turned to hear his question, while her attention still remained on the pile. Scattered bits of ceiling and wood were removed, revealing part of a bed. What was left of the quilt was dirty and rotted, and the mattress was probably approaching a similar state - though she could see it. Instead, her eyes were drawn downward. Unlike the other beds in the house, there wasn't a gap beneath it - it was all wood, right down to the floor. There was a knob on one raised section of wood, one that she'd recognized, from searching through the kitchen and the closests, as a handle. Alma tugged on it, and there came a sound of wood and metal creaking. Little by little, the drawer opened. "I do not know," Alma said while she stared at its contents, "I suppose you would have to stay in Inferni, for your own protection at least."

The coyote pulled out moth-bitten shirt. It wasn't as bad as the quilt, though, and might even be useful for bandages. Alma placed it beside her bow. "I'm not sure whether the Aquila would approve; I'd have to ask first." Somehow, though, she doubted she'd be able to convince him to let in someone that didn't live up to even her standards. "Or perhaps you would have to meet him. That might be better." As she pulled out more clothes, she idly wondered if the other leader, Vesper, might be more forgiving - then again, maybe not. From his behavior, she had the impression that he flirted with all females, and she didn't know how the Optio would take it.

She gave him a wary glance when his fur brushed up against hers, as if she had some idea of what he was trying to do but wasn't sure how to deal with it. "I've not thought about it." The coyote turned her head back to the drawer, and pulled out a small plastic horse, with chipped brown paint. "I was going to figure that out when the sun had started to fall to the west."

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