a ship is safe in harbor
but that's not what ships are for
but that's not what ships are for
“Mm, the impulse of youth,” Lena declared; not voicing that she’d seen it amidst a myriad of others who should’ve had the wisdom to refrain, but still somehow managed to embark into those foolish antics just the same.
But she watched as Damien strived to wrangle her in – Mittens not helping in the process by continuing to be a smug, hovering beacon; but the Caretaker cultivated patience. Pretending to be admiring the plants while the Accepted tended to the cub, she partook in snagging at the offered and proffered herbs, snagging them into the threshold of her arms as the little leopard seemed to figure some portions out. It’d take more than the single overture, but the man seemed to be getting the hang of it; and he’d learn, one way or another, what worked and what didn’t for the cub.
She granted an encouraging smile while she walked back to the garden’s threshold, contemplating portions and where she might put said cuttings. Her gaze ended up rooting right back to the abominable snowball though, waiting to see what it would do.
Which was stick out its tongue and blow a raspberry, before lifting its gaze upwards in a boastful and superior outlook, and floating to be next to her. “Perhaps that goes for mine as well,” she offered, shaking her head. “Their personalities are what makes them so interesting though.” Because if they were all the same, then certainly the world would be a dull affair.
But she watched as Damien strived to wrangle her in – Mittens not helping in the process by continuing to be a smug, hovering beacon; but the Caretaker cultivated patience. Pretending to be admiring the plants while the Accepted tended to the cub, she partook in snagging at the offered and proffered herbs, snagging them into the threshold of her arms as the little leopard seemed to figure some portions out. It’d take more than the single overture, but the man seemed to be getting the hang of it; and he’d learn, one way or another, what worked and what didn’t for the cub.
She granted an encouraging smile while she walked back to the garden’s threshold, contemplating portions and where she might put said cuttings. Her gaze ended up rooting right back to the abominable snowball though, waiting to see what it would do.
Which was stick out its tongue and blow a raspberry, before lifting its gaze upwards in a boastful and superior outlook, and floating to be next to her. “Perhaps that goes for mine as well,” she offered, shaking her head. “Their personalities are what makes them so interesting though.” Because if they were all the same, then certainly the world would be a dull affair.
Lena
