GLORY AND GORE | pumpkins

[aine.]

[align=center]— aine | the pitt | fae druid —

Shifting paws and perked ears.  Aine blinked owlishly up at her father, practically inhaling the short history lesson.  Strange.  Had he failed to specify the spirits as being 'evil' she may have protested; warding off spirits sounded rude after all, especially if they hadn't done anything.  Spirits belonged just as much as everyone else, didn't they?  Even so, the vixen bet maybe the evil ones just needed a simple talking to.  They probably weren't too bad.

Quickly, her head turned on a swivel, eyes luminous as they locked on Embry.  The other fox was familiar to her, and having not seen him in some time she quite excitedly leapt to her paws.  Soon she had found another pumpkin, much larger than her first, but slightly squished in shape.  "How 'bout this one Mr. Embry?" She could almost stand on top of it, leaning her soot colored paws into the great orange fruit with a hopeful grin.  Eager to please.

As she stood there she caught Redvox speaking, tilting her head towards his voice as she realized he was addressing her and not her father.  Supporting her father's point it was art.  Well.  She liked art.  Mostly due to her father's fondness of the practice.  Growing up, she had almost always woken up to the smell of wet paint.

Aine wondered.  Maybe they could just put googly eyes on the front.  No cutting.  It'd look silly too!  "Can it be a smiling face, da? Oh! We could give him a hat too, li' I gave my scarecrow."

— I'll come back when you call me —