Got the dreamer's disease
The cheery call of someone out of sight forces Fern to drop her gaze. She goes cross-eyed with the effort of glancing down so deeply, head tilting further to the side as she catches a glimpse of unruly hair and lifted arms that suggest the voice belongs to another boy. "Is that so?" she trumpets back, delight curling her tone. The confusion that ought to be there at being told she had asked for this, paid for it even, doesn't find a proper place for long, not when fun crowds it all out. There's no possibility of being mistaken for a different Fern when they used her full government name, but transitioning from world-famous doctor to window washing snob is seamless.
Clacking against the glass further, she wrestles the window open more, hoisting herself onto her stomach and propping her elbows across the sill as the more visible boy across the way touts the importance of using foot water for her. "Well you're doing a very bad job of it so far!" she points out brightly, wagging her scissors back and forth towards the boy and his bird. "That's the wrong window. I'm going to need to speak to your boss, immediately." She tightens her brows over her gaze, taking on the airs of a very unimpressed window owner.
Clacking against the glass further, she wrestles the window open more, hoisting herself onto her stomach and propping her elbows across the sill as the more visible boy across the way touts the importance of using foot water for her. "Well you're doing a very bad job of it so far!" she points out brightly, wagging her scissors back and forth towards the boy and his bird. "That's the wrong window. I'm going to need to speak to your boss, immediately." She tightens her brows over her gaze, taking on the airs of a very unimpressed window owner.
Fern
This world is gonna pull through, don't give up
