Relent<
1st Level Yellow Feather
- Joined
- Sep 8, 2005
- Messages
- 3,233
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"Damn you, Whal-skeee!" Katarina screeched, arching her shoulders back and sitting up to put her bare flank out of range of the pol's fingers. Or rather, who's fingers she'd assumed were flirtatiously taunting her again.
She spun around on her knees prepared to give him a good thump when she noticed Isis amiably offering her the bottle.
"Oh, it take more than small bottle to get me hammer. But I thank for kindness your offering." Unsure of what to do with her upraised hand, she punched Piotr in the arm again, for making her so paranoid by his actions before.
Her feet had been turned toward the fire, lightly dusted in the grass clippings and dirt of the ground beneath her, but glowing a faint shade of pink in the flickering light of the campfire, the shadows from the grasses around its stony perimeter dancing across her soles like the little tongues. The warmth was comforting, though she could not enjoy the show much from this position; still, she had to keep an eye on her neighbor--lest he be so inclined as to seek retribution for her regular abuse of him this evening.
She noticed a woman above the heads of all the other workers that seemed to be taking great pains to isolate herself from their flock. Most suspiciously, as she made eye contact with her, she noticed her quickly look away.
Katarina had never seen her before, but she'd never seen Isis before either. Probably a new hire; they were always popping up.
Then it occurred to her to ask:
"Magishaman!" She blurted daftly, as she turned uncomfortably away from Piotr and Isis to fix her eyes on the idle performer. "Do you work for circus? Are the caravan's catching up?"
She spun around on her knees prepared to give him a good thump when she noticed Isis amiably offering her the bottle.
"Oh, it take more than small bottle to get me hammer. But I thank for kindness your offering." Unsure of what to do with her upraised hand, she punched Piotr in the arm again, for making her so paranoid by his actions before.
Her feet had been turned toward the fire, lightly dusted in the grass clippings and dirt of the ground beneath her, but glowing a faint shade of pink in the flickering light of the campfire, the shadows from the grasses around its stony perimeter dancing across her soles like the little tongues. The warmth was comforting, though she could not enjoy the show much from this position; still, she had to keep an eye on her neighbor--lest he be so inclined as to seek retribution for her regular abuse of him this evening.
She noticed a woman above the heads of all the other workers that seemed to be taking great pains to isolate herself from their flock. Most suspiciously, as she made eye contact with her, she noticed her quickly look away.
Katarina had never seen her before, but she'd never seen Isis before either. Probably a new hire; they were always popping up.
Then it occurred to her to ask:
"Magishaman!" She blurted daftly, as she turned uncomfortably away from Piotr and Isis to fix her eyes on the idle performer. "Do you work for circus? Are the caravan's catching up?"