Snippet #1858742

Freeze City
Cellar of the Dancing Jackal

She stood at the top of the cellar staircase, staring down into the darkness with a disapproving frown on her human projection's face. It wasn't that she was afraid of the dark, not in the slightest, but she would be silly to deny the fact that it was very, very cold. Even though her coat had thickened for the winter weather, it didn't mean the pads of her paws couldn't feel the cold seeping into her bones. A heavy sigh rumbled through her, and she shook herself, gathering her stamina before turning to flip on the light, and then delve into the musty dampness of the cellar.

Row after row of different kinds of liquor extended ahead of her in a vast array of colors and sizes. As her eyes glanced over the choices, she steadily kept a count in her head, her brow furrowed slightly as she walked down the aisles. No doubt Gidon was upstairs enjoying the fact that he hadn't given himself a task. Not that it mattered to her either way. The male could do whatever he liked as far as she was concerned. So long as she could continue to exist and work here in peace.

It was nice to sort of...fit in. It wasn't her goal, of course. She didn't ever want to forget who she truly was, but for the time being, while she was simply trying to survive in a difficult world, it was nice that she had others she could look to. It was nice that there was some semblance of safety here. And if maintaining that comfort required her to count beer bottles while her boss took a nap, then so be it. She'd make due like she always had.

She rounded the aisle, confirming the ending count with the inventory list that sat posted to the cellar door, and then made her way back up to the main floor.

The Dancing Jackal hadn't seen a truly busy night since the day she'd stumbled into the city gates, cold and tired and hungry as she was. But the homely, musty building had become a comfort to her. Even when there were a few customers sitting at the main counter, she could always find some kind of solace in the back corner, curled up by the fire as she kept a watchful eye over the goings-on. Sometimes she even had an opportunity to read, whether it be a newspaper or a book she picked up in town.

She hesitated before sitting, stifling a yawn as she stretched out languidly. Her human projection looked rather comfortable, even after she shed her coat and set it down on a chair next to hers. She climbed into the seat, setting her arms up on the table and laying her cheek down on her forearms, her ice-blue eyes occasionally glancing to the doorway in case someone decided to show up.

When her lids closed half-way, she could feel herself beginning to doze. But she remained ever watchful and quiet, like a permanent fixture of the bar. It would be difficult to notice her if one was not actively looking for her.

Such was life.