âSome people just canât take a hint.â
For the most part, her walk was uninterrupted, though for the consideration of Ashâs health, when it really began to pour, she took refuge over a an old-fashioned awning in what she supposed used to be Koreatown. Sheâd read something about how cities were once sometimes divided by various immigrant groups, but it had been so long since anyone had immigrated anywhere that such concepts didnât really apply anymore. The rain was falling in thick sheets now, and she figured she could just wait a little while for it to taper off before she made it the rest of the way home. Ash, being meticulously clean, didnât smell as bad as another dog might have, but there was still a faint odor of wet dog in the area, something that her senses, such as they were, would never allow her to miss.
Sighing a breath through her nose, she crouched down beside him and draped her arms over her knees, propping her chin on them. At least it wasnât snowâthough considerably less inconvenient to walk in, she hated when it snowed. This whole time of year, actually, made her feel even more like a drab portion of a greying landscape, an ugly smear on someoneâs botched pain job of the city, or the world, or whatever. It was only a feeling, though, and like everything else, it would pass. She wasnât really that much uglier than any other smear.
Great. Stella barely suppressed the urge to snap somethingâwas it not obvious from her body language that she didnât really want anything to do with other people right now? Still, she supposed some innocent bystander didnât deserve to deal with the fact that she was letting her thoughts turn dark circles, round and round in a never-ending ebb and flow. She stood back up, lifting her eyes to at least make eye contact. Hold on.
She shook her head, blinked, and tried again. Still the same. Purple hairâlighter than hers was naturally, even, and orange eyes. This personâshe wasnât exactly certain if they were male or female or what, as she kept her eyes firmly fixed on their faceâwas probably more color than most people saw in a day, though they were not, it seemed, carrying an umbrella, rather kept mostly dry by some kind of long, dark coat. Stella frowned. She had parted her lips to decline when heâthe voice at least seemed masculine to her earsâcontinued speaking, and she was no idiot. That look⊠it registered as malice, or at least complete apathy, and she didnât like the way it contrasted with his too-light tone. Her eyes narrowed; she made a small gesture towards Ash, causing the wolfhound to stand at heel, ready to leave.
âYeah, well, thereâs a first time for everything. Iâm sure itâll get easier, with practice.â Didnât take no for an answer⊠seriously? Did she look like she cared? This guy, or person, or whatever could take his pretentious attitude and shove it, for all she cared. This was why she didnât like people. She made to move past him, and Ash followed, still at heel but warily regarding the stranger. The silly dog didnât really have it in him to hurt anyone, probably, but that was beside the point. She could do that well enough herself, if she had to.
Sighing a breath through her nose, she crouched down beside him and draped her arms over her knees, propping her chin on them. At least it wasnât snowâthough considerably less inconvenient to walk in, she hated when it snowed. This whole time of year, actually, made her feel even more like a drab portion of a greying landscape, an ugly smear on someoneâs botched pain job of the city, or the world, or whatever. It was only a feeling, though, and like everything else, it would pass. She wasnât really that much uglier than any other smear.
"Hello there, need an umbrella?"
Great. Stella barely suppressed the urge to snap somethingâwas it not obvious from her body language that she didnât really want anything to do with other people right now? Still, she supposed some innocent bystander didnât deserve to deal with the fact that she was letting her thoughts turn dark circles, round and round in a never-ending ebb and flow. She stood back up, lifting her eyes to at least make eye contact. Hold on.
She shook her head, blinked, and tried again. Still the same. Purple hairâlighter than hers was naturally, even, and orange eyes. This personâshe wasnât exactly certain if they were male or female or what, as she kept her eyes firmly fixed on their faceâwas probably more color than most people saw in a day, though they were not, it seemed, carrying an umbrella, rather kept mostly dry by some kind of long, dark coat. Stella frowned. She had parted her lips to decline when heâthe voice at least seemed masculine to her earsâcontinued speaking, and she was no idiot. That look⊠it registered as malice, or at least complete apathy, and she didnât like the way it contrasted with his too-light tone. Her eyes narrowed; she made a small gesture towards Ash, causing the wolfhound to stand at heel, ready to leave.
âYeah, well, thereâs a first time for everything. Iâm sure itâll get easier, with practice.â Didnât take no for an answer⊠seriously? Did she look like she cared? This guy, or person, or whatever could take his pretentious attitude and shove it, for all she cared. This was why she didnât like people. She made to move past him, and Ash followed, still at heel but warily regarding the stranger. The silly dog didnât really have it in him to hurt anyone, probably, but that was beside the point. She could do that well enough herself, if she had to.