01-29-2023, 11:06 AM
NATASHA
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“Hello, it’s nice to meet you both.” The macaque glanced up from her needlework once, then her gaze returned to the tricky dexterity task. “You’re Zuriela, right? I’m Natasha.”
She punctuated her introduction with a smile of satisfaction. She held up the red elk cloak and checked it over; the repaired seam was obvious from within, but the fluffy outside looked unblemished. It was practically good as new.
Natasha bit her lip as she returned the cloak to the ground and finished tying off the thread, then snipped the extra off. Perfect. She picked up the cloak and, with a flourish, drew it around her shoulders. Instantly, it warmed her back as it guarded her against the chilly wind, and her relaxed expression reflected the cozy comfort.
Once the mater of the cloak was dealt with, the weight of Romulus’s compliment settled on her. Her golden eyes widened. She hadn’t expected the kingpin himself to notice her needlework.
“Thank you, sir.” The tip of her head and shoulders was automatic. In the community she grew up in, the differences between ranks was rigid and absolute; her body wouldn’t forget these necessary rituals.
“My name’s Natasha,” she said, then realized she was repeating herself. He’d been there with Zuriela while she ignored them both to finish the minor repair, hadn’t he? “Hmm, well, your paws—” She bit her lip; macaque hierarchy was absolute, and even unintentional slights were dealt with accordingly. “—I’m sure your talents and time would be wasted on such mundane matters like sewing. It’s quite boring, really, the same repetitive motion over and over done with the utmost concentration… it’s a task only the lowest-ranked macaques would master.”
She punctuated her introduction with a smile of satisfaction. She held up the red elk cloak and checked it over; the repaired seam was obvious from within, but the fluffy outside looked unblemished. It was practically good as new.
Natasha bit her lip as she returned the cloak to the ground and finished tying off the thread, then snipped the extra off. Perfect. She picked up the cloak and, with a flourish, drew it around her shoulders. Instantly, it warmed her back as it guarded her against the chilly wind, and her relaxed expression reflected the cozy comfort.
Once the mater of the cloak was dealt with, the weight of Romulus’s compliment settled on her. Her golden eyes widened. She hadn’t expected the kingpin himself to notice her needlework.
“Thank you, sir.” The tip of her head and shoulders was automatic. In the community she grew up in, the differences between ranks was rigid and absolute; her body wouldn’t forget these necessary rituals.
“My name’s Natasha,” she said, then realized she was repeating herself. He’d been there with Zuriela while she ignored them both to finish the minor repair, hadn’t he? “Hmm, well, your paws—” She bit her lip; macaque hierarchy was absolute, and even unintentional slights were dealt with accordingly. “—I’m sure your talents and time would be wasted on such mundane matters like sewing. It’s quite boring, really, the same repetitive motion over and over done with the utmost concentration… it’s a task only the lowest-ranked macaques would master.”
macaque - she/her - wears red elk cloak
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