Room 201, Sunday Morning
Rosalind was planning on heading down to the picnic almost right away, truly. Even if that came with such questions as ‘did she want to carry around a stuffed wolf at the picnic’ which was rather… not her usual sort of question to be considering.
First, though, she was going to finish rereading her report. Already she was dressed, black suit, black shoes, hair combed with painstaking precision. Just a reread to fix any inaccuracies that had escaped her notice so far, and then she’d be out the door.
At least, that was the plan.
[For the plushie wolf mostly, but post open, sure.]
First, though, she was going to finish rereading her report. Already she was dressed, black suit, black shoes, hair combed with painstaking precision. Just a reread to fix any inaccuracies that had escaped her notice so far, and then she’d be out the door.
At least, that was the plan.
[For the plushie wolf mostly, but post open, sure.]