(no subject)

[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

[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.