(Fat) Tuesday, 17 February, 1953. ~8am, just before sunrise.

Sep 17, 2010 02:01

You ain't so good at watchin' for witchery, are you?

-=Trudging along in the false-dawn light, talking to the dog trotting at his side=-

See, this is what I was tellin' you about. Ol' Shep, see, he didn't watch out for it, neither, and look what happened to him for it. Hundred an' fi'ty years, right off. Now you gone and done the same damned thing.

Shit. I'm sticking to horses. Least-ways they ain't supposed to watch for nothing, so I ain't gonna think I can trust 'em for...oh, don't give me that look, dog. I'm hungry, too, but least you came in with a fur coat. It's colder here than Christmas in Montana, and that was cold. Damned cold, truth be told.

Maybe if you was a proper mutt, you'd go catch us a rabbit. Hell, a rat, even. Something. Useless, mangy...will you stop it with that look already? I ain't got no food, so you ain't getting none neither.

Where in hell is this damned place supposed to be, anyway. Damned city, too damned big for right folk.

((OOC: Mods, will need a tag for "Theodore Cooper". All, I'll tag as I'm online, usually late night days I work, but I will tag. Eventually.))

blaine thorps, giselle, theodore cooper

Previous post Next post
Up