Night 47: Gardener's Shed
[from here]
Breaking the door down had been more of a workout than Grell had wanted that night, but after fleeing from a man who could create fire and seemed to be sending explosions all about the courtyard, he supposed he couldn't complain. The door gave way under the flurry of his attacks and Grell stumbled into the shed, dropping the chainsaw as he rather unceremoniously slammed into the floor. And if he'd been any less of a lady, he might even have cursed for the pain of it, but he held his tongue and felt a glow of pride in himself. Now if only his smarting hands and knees and his left shoulder would feel the same.
Rolling onto his back, Grell kicked the door closed and then lay there in the darkness for a moment. He could hear the sounds of the battle continuing outside. Shouting and thundering blows and chaos. He missed the time when he could have sat on the courtyard wall unnoticed, merely observing as the humans tore each other apart. He'd been accused of being voyeuristic before, but he really couldn't help it. After awhile, watching humanity roll steadily forward, inventing new and better ways to kill each other, was his only entertainment.
Once the aching in his shoulder died down, Grell pushed himself up off the ground and gave an exaggerated sigh, looking down at his clothes. "Look at yourself! All this manual labor, so unsuitable for a lady of your station. And all for it." He glanced over his shoulder and his eyes found the chainsaw lying on the ground. This place had best have what he needed or he would be very cross and someone outside was going to die, working chainsaw or no. Snatching the machine off the ground, Grell took a look around the shed, squinting faintly in the dark, trying to make out the different machines.
Breaking the door down had been more of a workout than Grell had wanted that night, but after fleeing from a man who could create fire and seemed to be sending explosions all about the courtyard, he supposed he couldn't complain. The door gave way under the flurry of his attacks and Grell stumbled into the shed, dropping the chainsaw as he rather unceremoniously slammed into the floor. And if he'd been any less of a lady, he might even have cursed for the pain of it, but he held his tongue and felt a glow of pride in himself. Now if only his smarting hands and knees and his left shoulder would feel the same.
Rolling onto his back, Grell kicked the door closed and then lay there in the darkness for a moment. He could hear the sounds of the battle continuing outside. Shouting and thundering blows and chaos. He missed the time when he could have sat on the courtyard wall unnoticed, merely observing as the humans tore each other apart. He'd been accused of being voyeuristic before, but he really couldn't help it. After awhile, watching humanity roll steadily forward, inventing new and better ways to kill each other, was his only entertainment.
Once the aching in his shoulder died down, Grell pushed himself up off the ground and gave an exaggerated sigh, looking down at his clothes. "Look at yourself! All this manual labor, so unsuitable for a lady of your station. And all for it." He glanced over his shoulder and his eyes found the chainsaw lying on the ground. This place had best have what he needed or he would be very cross and someone outside was going to die, working chainsaw or no. Snatching the machine off the ground, Grell took a look around the shed, squinting faintly in the dark, trying to make out the different machines.