Post by Vanessa / Viola Oldford on Feb 18, 2014 18:41:57 GMT -6
Vanessa and Viola didn't, and really couldn't with their eye focused on the ongoing scrap between their eevee and the feral anorith, see the momentary staring, but they wouldn't be terribly bothered if they did. The stares had used to bother them, because their mindset, from life both as a constantly-patrolling guard who must not be distracted from her duty and a terrified maid who dreaded the glowing eyes of her hellish stalker, they'd loathed to have attention drawn to them. By this point in their life, they'd mellowed somewhat about it, since their price for standing out from the crowd these days was simply unflattering nicknames.
For now, they just stayed where they were, though as the anorith was flipped over--Magikarp in a barrel.--they found themselves looking down at their arms, particularly the cut above their knuckles and the other one on their forearm, visible through the tear in their shirt sleeve. None of their cuts were deep enough that the bleeding really concerned them, though they did briefly entertain the thought of just ripping the sleeves off of this shirt and using them to temporarily bind their wounds. Nothing's stopping us from sewing new, non-bloody sleeves onto it later.
I think I'd rather take my chances cleaning the blood out with salt water and then just sewing the up tears. That way we don't have to buy any new fabric.
Fair enough.
Their eye returned to the lillipup with a turn of their head, and a curious expression came across their face as they realized something. They glanced around briefly, before looking again at the feral canine. "Are you here all alone, puppy? Where's your pack?" Vanessa asked softly, though she knew he wouldn't understand or give her an answer.
Over with Bushy Tail, the eevee surveyed her handiwork as she circled the flipped-over pokemon. While not familiar with the phrase 'fish in a barrel' or any pokemon-related equivalents like her trainer was, she shared the sentiment on the matter. She flattened her ears at the screech as her opponent sought to right herself, and Bushy found herself having that same spark of sympathy Vanessa and Viola had had when they'd had the anorith pinned and immobile. At least when the anorith was simply blinded there was still some skill involved in avoiding the claw swings; this went beyond merely having the advantage. Add in the fact that her canine brain couldn't help but equate a 'belly-up' position with 'I surrender,' even though she knew it certainly wasn't the case here, and she found herself very hesitant to strike right now.
So, she backed up a little, plunked her rear end on the ground, curled the tail for which she'd been nicknamed around her paws, and waited. Either the anorith would succeed in getting up, or she'd wear herself out trying. Regardless of which it was, Bushy could wait.
Bushy Tail is waiting to see if the Anorith can get back up again.
For now, they just stayed where they were, though as the anorith was flipped over--Magikarp in a barrel.--they found themselves looking down at their arms, particularly the cut above their knuckles and the other one on their forearm, visible through the tear in their shirt sleeve. None of their cuts were deep enough that the bleeding really concerned them, though they did briefly entertain the thought of just ripping the sleeves off of this shirt and using them to temporarily bind their wounds. Nothing's stopping us from sewing new, non-bloody sleeves onto it later.
I think I'd rather take my chances cleaning the blood out with salt water and then just sewing the up tears. That way we don't have to buy any new fabric.
Fair enough.
Their eye returned to the lillipup with a turn of their head, and a curious expression came across their face as they realized something. They glanced around briefly, before looking again at the feral canine. "Are you here all alone, puppy? Where's your pack?" Vanessa asked softly, though she knew he wouldn't understand or give her an answer.
Over with Bushy Tail, the eevee surveyed her handiwork as she circled the flipped-over pokemon. While not familiar with the phrase 'fish in a barrel' or any pokemon-related equivalents like her trainer was, she shared the sentiment on the matter. She flattened her ears at the screech as her opponent sought to right herself, and Bushy found herself having that same spark of sympathy Vanessa and Viola had had when they'd had the anorith pinned and immobile. At least when the anorith was simply blinded there was still some skill involved in avoiding the claw swings; this went beyond merely having the advantage. Add in the fact that her canine brain couldn't help but equate a 'belly-up' position with 'I surrender,' even though she knew it certainly wasn't the case here, and she found herself very hesitant to strike right now.
So, she backed up a little, plunked her rear end on the ground, curled the tail for which she'd been nicknamed around her paws, and waited. Either the anorith would succeed in getting up, or she'd wear herself out trying. Regardless of which it was, Bushy could wait.
Bushy Tail is waiting to see if the Anorith can get back up again.