To open her mind. To find the possibilities.
Soft hands ran along the gnarled warped and rough board of wood. The light was dim with in the old barn, yet good enough to examine the planks. She needed to be open, needed to think about every option and all the possibilities. She could paint this, cut that, stack and nail those. Perhaps she could find a saw, or maybe she could set up a space here. Away from all the noise and distractions of the Manor. It was not surprising that her art would spill out from the sunroom and into other areas. She would like to not clutter the hallways and common spaces of the mansion. Maybe here? The question stayed with the tall woman as she scavenged another piece of wood from the large pile and looked at it.
The Earthen toned Church wolfess stepped back, crouching to see it at eye level and finding it suitable. In the keep pile it went. She figured that no one wanted these, and so she would keep the good stuff for herself. It was nice to be busy, and she was happy to have a project to work on. She was thinking of many things as of late. Ares was a one of the happier thoughts, and so he was on her mind often. The gray and black male made her think of all the possibilities, and she felt her mind open to many of them. The pups that had just arrived home to the Manor filled her thoughts as well, though too small and fragile for a Nanny’s touch. Soon though, the parents would need another set of eyes to watch over them. If Jaz ever planned on sleeping again.
Her mother was not far from her mind, the news from Anu had been hard, but the young wolfess had taken the cue from her adoptive mother and remained steady in her response. Feeling replaced, discarded and forgotten could not be stopped, but letting them known could be controlled. The next piece was twisted, bowed and ugly. She lay if flat on the dirt ground. It was warped and would not lie flat. Not good enough. But the grain and the color made her hesitate as she began to move it to the discard pile. Slowly she moved it and then stopped. Perhaps it was beautiful in its uniqueness. She threw it then, at the very thought. No, she thought as it crashed into the pile of weakened wood.
300+