PseudoLives
The Epitome of the Constantly Confused
Marilyn's uncle Dave huffed as his temporary charge ran off. "Social butterfly, that one is..." he said to himself with a chuckle.
"Maybe. I haven't checked the weather since last night," Tori said between bites. She stood and opened the curtains beside the dining table, revealing a white landscape and a clouded sky still sending down flurries of snow. "I stand corrected. It is definitely not lightening up."
(Let's not even mention this girl I don't know saying she can smell my fear! Totally normal XDD) Raena grinned and clapped her hands giddily like an excited little girl. "Very! Spin for me!" Raena moved to stand behind Katrina, admiring the way that the thin material hugged the human's curves. Raena herself was slender and had your average tall-girl's modest curves.
Angel was exhausted, and he didn't wake when Holly tensed in his arms. His brow furrowed the slightest bit, but otherwise his expression was peaceful and unguarded--much unlike it was when the Latino was awake. In the little bit of late-morning sun that made it through the petrified tree's limbs and then the treehouse's windows dappled Angel's face with light, highlighting his olive skin and long eyelashes with gold.
"Maybe. I haven't checked the weather since last night," Tori said between bites. She stood and opened the curtains beside the dining table, revealing a white landscape and a clouded sky still sending down flurries of snow. "I stand corrected. It is definitely not lightening up."
(Let's not even mention this girl I don't know saying she can smell my fear! Totally normal XDD) Raena grinned and clapped her hands giddily like an excited little girl. "Very! Spin for me!" Raena moved to stand behind Katrina, admiring the way that the thin material hugged the human's curves. Raena herself was slender and had your average tall-girl's modest curves.
Angel was exhausted, and he didn't wake when Holly tensed in his arms. His brow furrowed the slightest bit, but otherwise his expression was peaceful and unguarded--much unlike it was when the Latino was awake. In the little bit of late-morning sun that made it through the petrified tree's limbs and then the treehouse's windows dappled Angel's face with light, highlighting his olive skin and long eyelashes with gold.