☾ HOLDING MY BREATH — MAKING GIFT BASKETS

[guts]

Her task had been simple enough, and she was eager to get to work. She would have liked to deliver her baskets herself, but since she wasn't an Ambassador, she supposed making them was good enough. She bet seeing the other territories would be interesting, though. Nevertheless, she quickly got all her supplies gathered, collecting old baskets that were riddled with dust and cobwebs. She didn't know how to weave ones herself, and she wanted the best for their allies. They had to make a good impression!

Next was to make them look nice. She intertwined ribbons of different colors into the material, making sure it looked neat and nice on the eyes before heading out to find stuff to fill them with. This she hadn't planned out much, and she just settled with whatever that looked useful or important. She snuck a few other things in, too, like small bags of candy and playing cards and the like. Once they were all filled, she draped a thin cloth over the openings, concealing what was inside.

Taking a step back, Isabelle admired her work, smiling at the sight of her well-decorated baskets. She hoped they looked friendly enough. "The gift baskets are ready!" she announced to whoever was nearby, clearly proud of her work.

"speech"

[radeken]

Radeken wanted a gift basket. She didn't know who these were for (didn't care, either), but she swore in the moment that she heard the kid's call and deigned to venture over, one of them would be for her. No matter what. So she moseyed on over real casual-like, admiring Isabelle's craft as if it meant anything more to her, personally, than the possibility of a great boon, today's haul - she hardly stolen a thing since arriving back in this 'almost home' of hers and it was making her itch -, and with that nigh motherly look still pressed over her features like a horror mascot's flimsy murder-mask, she plopped down. Chin on her paws. Eyes on the prize(s).

"[color=black]Good job!" Radeken remarked in a voice that belonged to a preschool teacher, or else a woman on late night commercials advertising botox (no happy in-between). "[color=black]Where are you sending these off to, again, pumpkin?" She asked, lifting her head up, now, to display interest in Isabelle's pending response.

[agathe.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; color;"]"Those are for our allies, are they not?"

Agathe's inquiry was laced with an undercurrent of something that could only be described as graciousness, the weariness in her eyes indicative of her own inability to handle anything of this caliber much less run a clan. Titan was gone and she was utterly alone in a place that she did not entirely understand, left to make sure that all was well and everyone was appeased. But at least Isabelle had made gift baskets and at least... at least they had one, measly ally to give them to. She knew that she should be counting her little victories and relishing in the idea that they would not be entirely defenseless were they to be ambushed by one of their enemies but still, still- they were essentially a clan of children. What damage could they do? Who would they intimidate?

The snow leopard resisted the urge to heave a sigh, instead preoccupying herself by scanning the baskets once, twice, three times. "They look nice," She admitted, words tight and strained but delivered nonetheless. Agathe had never been the type to hand out praise but, while she had not forgotten Isabelle's mask antics, she was deserving of it. Incredibly so, actually. "Why don't we take them to Atticus so that he might distribute them to our ambassadors?" She mused, another unexpected offer from the girl who did not enjoy working closely with anyone to do anything. But she was tired and her head still pulsed at all times of day and maybe she expected some sort of good karma to be bestowed upon her if she did this little thing and helped for once. And then she would steal a few minutes for herself and sleep because her goddess knew that maybe, just maybe, she'd deserve it.

[BILLIE]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; font-family: raleway; text-align: justify; line-height: 13px;"]“see, that’s why these groups are so neat, you guys give each other presents.” billie mused as she approached, gait slow but cheerful, pawsteps light as she moved. “where i’m from, the closest we did to presents is, like, not killing each other. totally boring.” she said it, as though it wasn’t something she’d fought for, killed for. peace was hard won and so easily lost, or so it seemed over her life.

“need help carrying them?” she’d chirp, pale gaze shifting from the leader to the basket creator, unsure of who exactly was in charge of the task, but eager to help, if only to hear more about this present exchange. she had to wonder if perhaps they’d get some in return.