are you telling this story or am I?
"Sweet?" The two points of colour are high on Fiadh's cheeks now, and it is apparent that whilst she can't be swindled by most, her father is absolutely the exception to that rule. "We came all the way out here an' if I had bollocks they'd be sweatin' off, an' he leaves a fuckin' note?" It's like a brewing storm or a volcano about to erupt, the way she simmers and grows a similar colour to her hair.
Only rather than exploding in a temper, Fiadh shrinks. And shrinks some more. Ideally she'd have become a raccoon, just to thrust her little hands up at Remi and ask to be picked up, all petulant like. But it's far too hot for that, so he gets a vibrantly flecked green snake instead. Looping her way up the nearest tree (which happens to be Remi's right leg), the boomslang's grumbling becomes good natured(?) sulking.
Would you take me home please? It's very hot.
Only rather than exploding in a temper, Fiadh shrinks. And shrinks some more. Ideally she'd have become a raccoon, just to thrust her little hands up at Remi and ask to be picked up, all petulant like. But it's far too hot for that, so he gets a vibrantly flecked green snake instead. Looping her way up the nearest tree (which happens to be Remi's right leg), the boomslang's grumbling becomes good natured(?) sulking.
Would you take me home please? It's very hot.
Fiadh
Raccoon | Red Fox | Red Kite | Boomslang | Otter | Harpy
