(no subject)
As much as Olive likes to wander around, she can just as often be found curled up somewhere in the Compound, draped over a couch or, as she is today, reading in the kitchen.
She's reading, that is, right up until she isn't, her attention wandering, and she comes to the conclusion that, at some point, she should probably have remembered lunch. There are some odds and ends left in the fridge, sparse leftovers, but she winds up exploring the pantry instead, where everything is surprisingly well-organized. She has to wonder who's bored enough to bother coming in and cleaning it all up, making sure all the spices sit together in order by name, but then, everyone seems bored around here.
Emerging with a can of soup, she goes digging through a drawer for something to open it with, lips pursed and nose wrinkled. She comes up empty-handed, turning to a man nearby whose hair is actually be redder than her own (much less rare here than it was at school, but still noteworthy to her). "Have you seen the can opener?"
She's reading, that is, right up until she isn't, her attention wandering, and she comes to the conclusion that, at some point, she should probably have remembered lunch. There are some odds and ends left in the fridge, sparse leftovers, but she winds up exploring the pantry instead, where everything is surprisingly well-organized. She has to wonder who's bored enough to bother coming in and cleaning it all up, making sure all the spices sit together in order by name, but then, everyone seems bored around here.
Emerging with a can of soup, she goes digging through a drawer for something to open it with, lips pursed and nose wrinkled. She comes up empty-handed, turning to a man nearby whose hair is actually be redder than her own (much less rare here than it was at school, but still noteworthy to her). "Have you seen the can opener?"