01-24-2009, 11:01 PM
[html]
Cer lives in a church out by St. Pepin’s vineyards, a little outside of Berwick, just so you know!
Eyes half shut, the white lady was laying on the bed nestled in blankets that still smelt of Slay. The rain that had been pouring for days had yet to stop and Cercelee saw no point in leaving the warm church, which had quickly become her home. When awake she spent the time shifted, cleaning up the dust and debris in the main church and the bedroom and kitchen in the back of the churck, or unshifted just day dreaming. Now she was merely enjoying the beating of the raining upon the church’s roof, the sound echoing throughout the building. She knew that if she were sitting in any of the pews in the main room that nothing could be heard over the loud sounds of the rain pounding the wooden beams above, but in the bedroom, thankfully free of leaks, the sound was more muffled, the perfect sound to lull one into sleep.
The male’s loud voice broke into her consciousness, and navy eyes opened with a start. Slipping off the bed, Cercelee leisurely stretched out her limbs, four paws on the ground, four sets of claws clicked on the stone floor. Shaking away the drowsy feeling from her head, the lithe female moved out of the bedroom and through the kitchen, nudging open the kitchen door which opened into the backyard of the church. Cercelee had rigged the door so that it didn’t latch and swung open both ways, giving her access to the outside without the need to shift and turn a door knob. There stood Lubomir, and Cercelee’s eyed him questioningly, they hadn’t met, at least not formally, but she had seen him at the hunt and knew of him from Mew.
Aftering getting over the initial shock of the male at her doorstep, Cercelee smiled easily at the brute. “Come in Lubomir, no need to get all soaked out there.” Cercelee nudged the door open further with her nose, holding it for the male. Once inside she shook the rain that had fallen on her head out, turning the male and speaking smoothly. “Is there something I can help you with today?” The Rosea hated to be so formal, but Lubomir and her were not friends so this wasn’t a social call and he seemed to have a purpose.
[/html]
Cer lives in a church out by St. Pepin’s vineyards, a little outside of Berwick, just so you know!
Eyes half shut, the white lady was laying on the bed nestled in blankets that still smelt of Slay. The rain that had been pouring for days had yet to stop and Cercelee saw no point in leaving the warm church, which had quickly become her home. When awake she spent the time shifted, cleaning up the dust and debris in the main church and the bedroom and kitchen in the back of the churck, or unshifted just day dreaming. Now she was merely enjoying the beating of the raining upon the church’s roof, the sound echoing throughout the building. She knew that if she were sitting in any of the pews in the main room that nothing could be heard over the loud sounds of the rain pounding the wooden beams above, but in the bedroom, thankfully free of leaks, the sound was more muffled, the perfect sound to lull one into sleep.
The male’s loud voice broke into her consciousness, and navy eyes opened with a start. Slipping off the bed, Cercelee leisurely stretched out her limbs, four paws on the ground, four sets of claws clicked on the stone floor. Shaking away the drowsy feeling from her head, the lithe female moved out of the bedroom and through the kitchen, nudging open the kitchen door which opened into the backyard of the church. Cercelee had rigged the door so that it didn’t latch and swung open both ways, giving her access to the outside without the need to shift and turn a door knob. There stood Lubomir, and Cercelee’s eyed him questioningly, they hadn’t met, at least not formally, but she had seen him at the hunt and knew of him from Mew.
Aftering getting over the initial shock of the male at her doorstep, Cercelee smiled easily at the brute. “Come in Lubomir, no need to get all soaked out there.” Cercelee nudged the door open further with her nose, holding it for the male. Once inside she shook the rain that had fallen on her head out, turning the male and speaking smoothly. “Is there something I can help you with today?” The Rosea hated to be so formal, but Lubomir and her were not friends so this wasn’t a social call and he seemed to have a purpose.
[/html]