DOWN BY WILLOW SQUARE ☆ training dummies

[wormwood.]

The next one to arrived on the scene was Feza, who seemed just as confused by the scene as Nord had been, but for different reasons entirely. When she implied that he was trying to make a crowd for a party, his ears at first pinned back in displeasure, insulted by the fact that she would think such a thing, and then his eyes softened – out of pity. It was pretty obvious from how she followed it up that she had done that very thing before with her own materials, and that was probably part of the reason why she viewed boxes in such a fanatical light. Honestly, Worm was beginning to think that she wasn't the most mentally stable animal in the world. Well, of course she wasn't, she had proved that time and time again, but now he was beginning to question if there was some deeper seated issues there. Still, even if there were, it wasn't as if he could do anything about it. He had his own issues to deal with, and he certainly wasn't a qualified therapist, not that anyone in the group was. Moth had tried that group therapy session at her house at one point, but it hadn't really amounted to much, and had mostly just ended up causing chaos, or with everyone leaving before anything useful was said. Just the thought of it made him sigh, and he grumbled as he nudged one of the dummies, shaking his head at Feza'a ridiculous suggestion, "They aren't supposed to be party guests, Feza. If you haven't noticed by now, I'm not exactly a party person unless it's someone else dealing with the throwing of it." He didn't mean her, of course, but there were other parties he had enjoyed. Like the nice calm bonfire that Leroy had hosted. That had been nice... it had also been before shit hit the fan.

He noticed the twitchy way that Feza stammered and stumbled her way through her speech, and he wasn't sure if it was because of his presence, or just because she was degrading so much lately. He felt bad about not noticing sooner, but he had been pretty preoccupied with his own troubles, and the recent kidnapping of Roy had pretty much been dominating his thoughts lately, so he hadn't exactly had time for worrying about brightly colored snow leopards and their deteriorating mental health. Not wanting things to go downhill even more, or for her to continue with her awkward jerky words, he cut her off, rumbling as he sank his claws into one of the dummies and shook his around, wrinkling his nose when the creation spewed out bits of hay, "They're training dummies. You know, for fighting? They're to practice on so that you don't have to hurt anybody while practicing fighting moves. It's simpler than hosting a spar again, since most of the people around here are either injured or too small for me to fight fairly with them, and I still need to get used to fighting with one eye." He pointed a claw towards his one good eye, as if demonstrating his own words.

[glow=black,2,300]THE FREEDOM OF FALLING[/glow]