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[simple-tool.livejournal.com]

[After a peaceful day]

The door opens upon a girl with a basket in her arms, and those who are looking may note the slight widening of her eyes, the briefest flash of panic. It is quickly hidden though as she erases even the faintest hint of a smile from her lips, and steps into Bar.

The basket holds a puppy, perhaps no more than a week oldor a little more. Bar herself is a good place to head to when there are no instructions, so Tool recieves a coloring book and crayons...

And since the puppy is asleep, she has no reason to do aught else.

The picture she starts is perfect. Excellent shading, an artistic masterpiece...

And she doesn't finish it. Her fingers freeze, the crayon cracks, unforgiveable that. She does not want perfection, not in something so simple as this...

Comments

[simple-tool.livejournal.com]

Martha had said much the same.

"She is to young to know of other ways. In most cases, a young pup that refuses to nurse, dies" she stated firmly.

"And a far healthier bond would lie in he littermates"

[prone-to-panic.livejournal.com]

"But she will not die, will she? You are taking good care of her. You won't let anything bad happen to her, will you?"

[simple-tool.livejournal.com]

She has no power to protect the pup. Bad things happen all the time to the weak and the defenseless.

And Master was alwys at his most cruel when asking such gentle seeming questions.

She wants to snag the basket and run far, far from him...but cannot make herself move...

Her eyes go wide with remembered fear though. "Master if I have angered, she cannot take damage enough to appease you..."

[prone-to-panic.livejournal.com]

He stares at her blankly for a moment.

"Oh God."

His face goes pale, and he remembers something different, but similar enough to know.

"I will never hurt you or your puppy lass. You have my word on that."

[simple-tool.livejournal.com]

An adult's word means nothing.

Promises made to her mean less.

"Master is kind"

[prone-to-panic.livejournal.com]

"Lass..."

He winces at her manner. It hurts how afraid she is, how very accepting of the fear she has become.

"When I was young, there was one that... did things to me. I would not have any such thing happen to you or anyone else in this place. It is my duty to keep people safe. That includes you."

[simple-tool.livejournal.com]

"I understand" she doesn't. She has no concept of being protected.

She stood, dipping a bow as Foolish whimpered louder "If it pleases..."

She'd like to leave.

[prone-to-panic.livejournal.com]

"You do not need to ask my permission miss."

He watches her, cursing himself for making it worse.

"Ever."

He thinks he might need a drink.

[simple-tool.livejournal.com]

She flees. It is the best term, leaving that half fininshed picture and taking her precious puppy with her through the door.