(no subject)
Boredom has always been a problem for Elle, her life so often a haphazard routine. She'd never so much lived by a schedule, but there were only so many things for a girl to do on any given day, growing up on Company grounds, and the same has proved true here on the island. Sooner or later, she ends up repeating herself, bored into a corner. In the end, all that's left is her feeling more restless than when her day began.
Even swimming loses its novelty after a while, something she hadn't really expected. She's no good at staying still, so sitting inside with books isn't really an option to her. Sometimes she lingers outside classrooms, listening in on lessons, not curious enough to attend classes regularly. Learning in bits and pieces is what she's accustomed to, anyway. None of the tutors her father had arranged for her early on had stood the test, and she'd wound up teaching herself more often than not, her education patchy and disconnected as a result.
In the end, she winds up on the beach, stretched out in the sun, but even that only works for so long. Even when she's at ease, her mind isn't, wandering, and there aren't a lot of places for it to go or much to occupy her thoughts here. Somehow they always turn back to home and the life she left behind, inasmuch as she had home or life. Before she knows it, she's tapping her toes, wriggling her fingers, and maybe it's this movement that draws the dog over to her.
Ordinarily, back home, she probably would have wanted to pet the thing, to feel it nose against her palm, enjoying the softness of fur, the attention of another living creature. Now all she wants to do is zap it 'cause she can't. Pushing up to her knees, she reaches out to the animal, hesitant, petting carefully. As she does so, the awareness of another person dawns on her and she looks over. "He yours?"
Even swimming loses its novelty after a while, something she hadn't really expected. She's no good at staying still, so sitting inside with books isn't really an option to her. Sometimes she lingers outside classrooms, listening in on lessons, not curious enough to attend classes regularly. Learning in bits and pieces is what she's accustomed to, anyway. None of the tutors her father had arranged for her early on had stood the test, and she'd wound up teaching herself more often than not, her education patchy and disconnected as a result.
In the end, she winds up on the beach, stretched out in the sun, but even that only works for so long. Even when she's at ease, her mind isn't, wandering, and there aren't a lot of places for it to go or much to occupy her thoughts here. Somehow they always turn back to home and the life she left behind, inasmuch as she had home or life. Before she knows it, she's tapping her toes, wriggling her fingers, and maybe it's this movement that draws the dog over to her.
Ordinarily, back home, she probably would have wanted to pet the thing, to feel it nose against her palm, enjoying the softness of fur, the attention of another living creature. Now all she wants to do is zap it 'cause she can't. Pushing up to her knees, she reaches out to the animal, hesitant, petting carefully. As she does so, the awareness of another person dawns on her and she looks over. "He yours?"