COLORS | painting

[Keona.]

[align=center]

If I fall, get knocked down, pick myself up off the ground

Color.  A foreign concept.  The tiny Dealer had never possessed the sight to see it, existing in her own world of sound, touch and smell.  Just as colorful.  Just in a different way.  As such, Keona did know what painting was, even if she never saw the results.  On more than one occasion her father had fondly asked her to press a colored paw somewhere and on the day of her Beta ceremony, choosing her division had ended with a tiny pawprint left on the Blackjack Rats totem pole.

Her ears twitched curiously.  She simply meant to wander the beach a little, but the myriad of relatively unfamiliar voices caught her attention.  With a flick of her tail, the faerie padded across the suspended platforms, nose inhaling softly.  Trygve she knew.

The attention appeared to be on the one closest to the door.  One smelling particularly of paint.  "Aloha." Was he new?  He seemed new to her.  "Are you jus' movin' in? Do you need any help?" Might as well offer while she was here.

✯ — keona sibéal ní faoláin. female. dealer of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.