10-16-2020, 01:00 AM
“A regular stroll is enough. I often find the best and strangest things when my intentions are open,” Rosemary said. She started walking, the half-empty satchel bouncing against her shoulder. Her right ear flicked as she listened to Vigenere, and she scanned the marshy area as he spoke. She didn’t interrupt him.
Her nose twitched, and she altered course slightly. The smell of mint grew steadily stronger, until she stopped in front of a bushel of water mint and milkweed. Her orange-amber eyes narrowed as the plants shivered, until she telekinetically severed small pieces and floated them into waiting tins in her paws.
“Things only bother us once we decide they bother us. It seems that heavy thing is too sentimental to bother you–or, I suppose, it might bother you more to leave it behind.” She tapped the sapphire skull charm hanging off a gold earring. “This is much the same to me. Pincher gave it to me, long ago. Back when Tanglewoods and the Typhoon hated each other.”
The ocelot stood up and resumed the stroll. Her forked tails flicked as she looked up to the tree tops. “Time flies, indeed. I watched Goldie grow from a child to a capable leader, but I haven’t changed so much, myself, in that time. And the Typhoon is… different. Less testy, less hierarchical. I think it’s for the better.”
“Tanglewoods, though… I have never thought much of you lot, to tell the truth. I think I remember Beck and only him, as the face of a bunch of idiots who trap each other more than outsiders.”