|
|
Post by Deleted on May 17, 2013 22:51:16 GMT
{K i r b y}
{I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck Than any girl you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me}{ action}{ speech}{ thought}
The weather was...unpleasant.
Wet, cold, windy. Three environmental states that rarely constituted anything positive and, in this case, was bordering on the downright unbearable. Kirby sent a scowl skyward, verbally cursing whichever deity was responsible for the current downpour. While it was far from the level of rainfall that had encompassed the city last year - Kirby shuddered just at the thought - it was enough to send any self-preserving animal scurrying to their homes; and while Kirby would never admit to it (she did not 'scurry'), she found herself behaving similarly. Dodging her way through quickly-swelling puddles and sodden gold leaves, thrown wayward by the chilled breeze, she darted quickly toward the most familiar of shelters in this part of town: it was large, even by the standard of the type of houses in this district, and squared from the street by an imposing fence. Kirby had exploited her small size and relative agility to squeeze through a barely-there space in the fencing, and declared this building her home. Now, months after her first visit to the house, her hole in the fencing had been stretched and widened by others, clearly having watched her slip through and copied her actions. While she had never caught the offending animal, she was certain that this was the case.
Darting through the adequate hole in the fence, she braved the rain in the short dash to the house. The ground was quickly becoming turgid with water, allowing the earth to swell with mud and she winced as she crossed the expansive lawn, feet becoming browned with dirt. That would have to be rectified, soon. Finally finding the expensive brickwork, she crept along its edge until coming to the door, resting in a permanently slightly-open state. It was easy to nudge its weight aside with a shove, and she stalked inside, shivering dramatically from the light dampness of her coat, turning the pale smokey hue into slate gray, darkening the rust-coloured highlights until they looked more like dirt than the beautiful markings she knew them to be. Tail twitching spasmodically in irritation, she trailed through the hall, into the carpeted living room, leaving behind wet paw prints in her wake. She did not immediately mount the soft couches with their plush cushions, as she was wont to do, but sat neatly back on her haunches, lifting a damp fore-paw to be cleaned. The gritty taste of earth was hardly palatable, and she felt her mood darkening with each swipe of her tongue. There were few things that could make her day much worse, and with the way her luck was going, she wouldn't doubt that they would happen, sooner or later.
It was a lengthy process: despite the flavour that stayed, thick and cloying, in her mouth, she simply could not tolerate the mess. It was only when her feet were pristine white once again that she allowed herself to relax. Her fur had dried in the time she'd been sat, and she could be content sitting to perfect her pelt while she waited for the rain to cease. She leaped tidily onto the comforting softness of the couch, tucking herself into the relatively sheltered corner. She was almost certain that nobody would intrude on the house while she was inside: mostly because anybody with an ounce of sensibility would have sought refuge already by now. She allowed herself a wry smile. Of course, if she was interrupted, she had the advantage of size. In her current position, she could easily disappear behind a cushion until the intruder left. Not out of cowardice, of course, but Kirby's tendency to run her mouth was unlikely to end well for her in any situation. She huffed a soft laugh: that statement could sum up her life. Twisting slightly to lick at the tangled fur over her right hip, she let her mind drift to her family. Her mother and father, brother and sister. For all she knew, which was very little, they could be gone by now, lost to the floods and heatwaves, to predators. They had always been such trusting things: hardly practical or safe for animals of their stature. She had the most hope for her brother Cooper, whose timid, unsocial brand of living had influenced her own method of defense. It had served her well, at least. Moving to strip her tongue along the length of her tail, she listened to the obtrusive sound of rain against the windows, and waited for the downpour to cease.
{words: 755}{image}
{OOC: There we go! I hope this is okay c: <3}
|
|
