Post by Beriadan on Oct 12, 2024 8:50:08 GMT
"There's nae point wit' this one. She ain't takin' in any o' the usual crock o' shite you feel ta the newbies, cap'n."
The voice came from a floral patterned armchair which sat in one of the far corners of the room, facing away from the centre as if someone had positioned it as anti-socially as possible. A figure rose, a lithe, short woman, with feline ears that seemed to twitch and swivel with every small movement. She inspected her claws with one eye of blue and one eye of yellow, looking incredibly bored.
"She ain't gon' stick around. Why are ya waistin' breath on someone who cannae do anythin' for anyone other than herself, ya ken? She's canny enough ta patch it as soon as look at trouble. She's no' like us."
The woman flicked her eyes to Lyra, a small, but wicked, little smirk on her lips. Her tail was swishing back and forth as she spoke, utter confidence and cynicism oozing from every pore. Clearly, someone had taken a dislike to the stray and her pet.
The voice came from a floral patterned armchair which sat in one of the far corners of the room, facing away from the centre as if someone had positioned it as anti-socially as possible. A figure rose, a lithe, short woman, with feline ears that seemed to twitch and swivel with every small movement. She inspected her claws with one eye of blue and one eye of yellow, looking incredibly bored.
"She ain't gon' stick around. Why are ya waistin' breath on someone who cannae do anythin' for anyone other than herself, ya ken? She's canny enough ta patch it as soon as look at trouble. She's no' like us."
The woman flicked her eyes to Lyra, a small, but wicked, little smirk on her lips. Her tail was swishing back and forth as she spoke, utter confidence and cynicism oozing from every pore. Clearly, someone had taken a dislike to the stray and her pet.
