Good things come to those who wait.
All in all, Adora Belle was quite pleased with the change of weather. Among other things, the disappearance of the snow meant she could leave the Compound and its annoying mass of human occupants, and retreat into the jungle to set up camp preferably as far away from anyone else as possible. She stopped short at venturing into dinosaur territory, however.*
But there were downsides. Namely, the sounds of birds and various animals in the trees that tended to wake her up ridiculously early in the mornings, the lack of running water save for at the beach and in the streams and waterfalls, and the crate.
It was as she was returning to her 'camp' after her morning ablutions that she saw it. It was large, and someone had dumped it square in the middle of her campfire, scattering wood and ash and dirt all over her blankets.
Whoever did it, when she found them, was going to pay.
For now, though, she decided to see what was in the crate. Probably something nasty. But curiosity, as they said, not only killed the cat but skinned it, quartered it, and served it up for dinner as well.
The crate was full of long cardboard boxes that had a distressingly familiar smell. Adora Belle pulled one out and opened it, shaking it with a little more force than was perhaps necessary to dislodge its contents.
Rectangular packets rained onto the ground. Familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time, packets. Adora Belle picked one up.
There was a picture of a camel on it.
There were cigarettes inside.
Half an hour later, Adora Belle was sitting on the beach in the sand with her heels off, chain-smoking as she'd never chain-smoked before and smiling a smile so genuinely content that it looked thoroughly out of its depth on her face.
*There were some lengths that Miss Dearheart would not go to, even if it meant escaping from people permanently.
[OOC: Excellent time to meet her! She might even share. Except, you know, probably not.]
But there were downsides. Namely, the sounds of birds and various animals in the trees that tended to wake her up ridiculously early in the mornings, the lack of running water save for at the beach and in the streams and waterfalls, and the crate.
It was as she was returning to her 'camp' after her morning ablutions that she saw it. It was large, and someone had dumped it square in the middle of her campfire, scattering wood and ash and dirt all over her blankets.
Whoever did it, when she found them, was going to pay.
For now, though, she decided to see what was in the crate. Probably something nasty. But curiosity, as they said, not only killed the cat but skinned it, quartered it, and served it up for dinner as well.
The crate was full of long cardboard boxes that had a distressingly familiar smell. Adora Belle pulled one out and opened it, shaking it with a little more force than was perhaps necessary to dislodge its contents.
Rectangular packets rained onto the ground. Familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time, packets. Adora Belle picked one up.
There was a picture of a camel on it.
There were cigarettes inside.
Half an hour later, Adora Belle was sitting on the beach in the sand with her heels off, chain-smoking as she'd never chain-smoked before and smiling a smile so genuinely content that it looked thoroughly out of its depth on her face.
*There were some lengths that Miss Dearheart would not go to, even if it meant escaping from people permanently.
[OOC: Excellent time to meet her! She might even share. Except, you know, probably not.]