Year 512, 52 day of summer Time: Evening Place: Cliffside Grotto People: Dex There is nothing so vile as overworked, salt incrusted and sweaty men. But if you take perhaps two dozen of said individuals, and a dogs keen sense of smell, then you get something truly horrific. Rhy is elbowing past a mob of dock workers on their way home after a hard days labor with one hand held to her nose to prevent the acrid scented brew from finding its way in. She is on her way to the Grotto in an attempt to get to fresher air. "Step clear, sweetheart!" One of the workers yell as she trod on the toe of his boot. Rhy waves him away with her free hand. "Sorry, sorry, just passing. Let me through..." Someone pushes her out of the way with a gruff and she instinctively pushes back, catching her elbow in his diaphragm. "Oi!" he wheezes. He was Human, as far as she could tell, and cresting a few inches above herself. A hand comes down on her shoulder in an attempt to steer her out of the way, or to stop her from falling into someone again, but she is caught off guard and repays him with with a quick snap on the fleshy part of his hand. Only to let go with a shock when the man howls and she tastes blood on the edge of her teeth. She stumbles back, laughing nervously. "I-Im sorry! These things happen..." The men were looking far from appeased. So without further ado she tucks her metaphoric tail and bolts. And she doesn't stop running until she passes the gate of the Cliffside Grotto. "Dammit," she growls, speaking to her own human body. "Your not even worth this trouble." She stomps up the stairs with misplaced frustration, shedding clothing as she goes. For her, this frustration is well founded. Its when she's with humans that she feels the least human. They rarely suffer from impulse, never get overwhelmed with sensory overload, their thoughts are deep and clear and expressed through writing or an equally deep and clear language. Likewise, the dogs make her less of a beast. She sees their expressions as shallow, their reasoning flawed. She sees herself as much more then them, but so much less then human. Bitting people when startled just attests to this. She shoves her clothes in her mouth and shifts to her dog form without breaking pace. She doesn't aspire to be human, just as she doesn't aspire to be a dog, she just wishes her body would decide what it is. You bite and run away, or you apologize and get out of their way, she tells herself. You don't do both! A tree in its full summer bloom sits wide and arcing on the left of the path. Its stance large and inviting and good a place as any to lay her head. She ducks the railing and after tucking her clothes away and doing a few pacing circles she finds herself a good bed between the roots. But she keeps her eyes open and listens to the rustling of birds, hedgehogs and moles in the bushes. Her mind is still far from easy and in no state to sleep. A quivering bed of flowers catch her eye and her ears naturally cast in that direction. Maybe a snack before bed... |