[The worst part about meat is how raw it is. Not, like... how it smells, even though that's also awful.
(Hers doesn't smell like much, but everyone else's smells really bad... secretly Kumiho wonders if she also smells really bad but she can't tell because it's her bad smell, but last time she thought about that for too long she wanted to cry. So that's not a subject for today.)
No, it's that this meat is so raw and tender, so sensitive and weak. Running can only be achieved for minutes at a time, if that. Walking seemed better, almost indefinite, but that was a trick. Her feet hurt so much! It isn't fair! Even if she takes off her shoes, they still hurt! And then she has to look at them! Ugly meat things! So many moving parts! So much horrible meat!
Her lament could--and normally would have--gone on, were it not for the sudden wailing from down the road. Her instinctive response to surprise is to jump--which doesn't get her as far as it might have normally, even if she does remember not to somersault this time. She lands on her (sore!) feet and hurries towards the sound, already in a cranky enough mood to tell this guy off for interrupting her agony with his!
If Licorice can take a moment to notice her, he'll see her bright red eyes narrow from the bottom up, white eyebrows furrowing just a bit.
She... is legitimately trying to figure out what to say to the layers of comic disaster before her. He might be a Cookie, but--
This is so far outside of her current mood or her current skillset that she finally gives up, flipping her fan up to cover the lower half of her face in what would normally be purposeful coyness... okay, it isn't not that here, but....]
Ooh? What's the problem? You need a little... help?
no subject
(Hers doesn't smell like much, but everyone else's smells really bad... secretly Kumiho wonders if she also smells really bad but she can't tell because it's her bad smell, but last time she thought about that for too long she wanted to cry. So that's not a subject for today.)
No, it's that this meat is so raw and tender, so sensitive and weak. Running can only be achieved for minutes at a time, if that. Walking seemed better, almost indefinite, but that was a trick. Her feet hurt so much! It isn't fair! Even if she takes off her shoes, they still hurt! And then she has to look at them! Ugly meat things! So many moving parts! So much horrible meat!
Her lament could--and normally would have--gone on, were it not for the sudden wailing from down the road. Her instinctive response to surprise is to jump--which doesn't get her as far as it might have normally, even if she does remember not to somersault this time. She lands on her (sore!) feet and hurries towards the sound, already in a cranky enough mood to tell this guy off for interrupting her agony with his!
If Licorice can take a moment to notice her, he'll see her bright red eyes narrow from the bottom up, white eyebrows furrowing just a bit.
She... is legitimately trying to figure out what to say to the layers of comic disaster before her. He might be a Cookie, but--
This is so far outside of her current mood or her current skillset that she finally gives up, flipping her fan up to cover the lower half of her face in what would normally be purposeful coyness... okay, it isn't not that here, but....]
Ooh? What's the problem? You need a little... help?
[... other than the obvious.]