"Wait your fuckin' turn." It's dusk, it's a whatever temperature (Edy is always perfectly room-temperature, so I guess we can say that her body doesn't have to work too hard given that it's mostly warm), and Edy is surrounded by a shit-ton of cats.
Sat on the dock wearing little more than a tattered sun dress, the ascended's bony legs are splayed out before her as she continues to belittle the hoard of felines mewling for her attention. "The fuck did I just say to you? Y'got sand in your ears?" She asks, before offering a flake of tuna to one of the more polite cats. "Don't think I won't throw your ass into the water, cause I fucking will." She wouldn't, and the cats seemed to know it, not that she actually minds.
But given she couldn't fuck when she wanted, she couldn't feel or taste, and had no fucking purpose in life, smelling like fish while playing waiter to a bunch of dock-cats seemed as good a way as any to spend a whatever-day-of-the-week-it-was.
Sat on the dock wearing little more than a tattered sun dress, the ascended's bony legs are splayed out before her as she continues to belittle the hoard of felines mewling for her attention. "The fuck did I just say to you? Y'got sand in your ears?" She asks, before offering a flake of tuna to one of the more polite cats. "Don't think I won't throw your ass into the water, cause I fucking will." She wouldn't, and the cats seemed to know it, not that she actually minds.
But given she couldn't fuck when she wanted, she couldn't feel or taste, and had no fucking purpose in life, smelling like fish while playing waiter to a bunch of dock-cats seemed as good a way as any to spend a whatever-day-of-the-week-it-was.
