Quoted By:
ರೃ <span class="mu-i">Lucinda Newhorn</span> ರೃ
<span class="mu-g">Mind Roll: 70
Mind Roll: 45
Wisdom Roll: 10
Mind Roll: 3
RE:
Stat: 63 (Wisdom)
Type: 41 (Positive)
Magnitude: 78 (Magnitude 5)</span>
It's old, it's wet, ti's dirty, it smells bad- that is what a disgusted Lucinda thinks as she bites her lower lip. It's free, she also thinks, and her teeth loosen up. At least oh so much more free than she was.
As drizzle makes a curtain between then, Lucinda stretches a hand that could well be bitten towards the ever patient dog. Then she reels back- then stretches again as she holds her breath. Petting a dog can be harder than learning Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata on piano, a fact anyone else would find laughable- a fact that, to Lucinda, could never be more real.
She touches the dogs forehead before even noticing.
And when the anti-social prodigy reels back, it's the dog that pushes forward to her hand. Slowly, ever so slowly, Lucinda's hand brushes against wet hair and warm meat. It feel uncomfortable. Someone stop to stare and watch, but Lucinda's raw stare gets her going as if she left caviar in a burning oven.
Switfly, Lucinda grabs a stick next to her and flings it towards the plaza, and it lands on the grass. The dog just stares, wagging its tail; it neither goes after it or leaves. Perhaps that is a cliche, and some dogs are just big lazy cats.
Yet while Lucinda is an interesting person, to the dog, she must be way less interesting than the hotdog stand- which he chases down as it rolls past. Intrigued by the animal, Lucinda follows from a distance. The owner of the hotdog stand may have done this for decades already, because he just stops, whips out a sausage, and feeds it to the dog, perhaps already perfectly aware that this is the only way that the chase will end with his sanity intact.
Lucinda follows the dog around for a while, studying it like a book, yet learning nothing she couldn't find in one. After all, meaning is hidden in plain sight, but there is some that Lucinda could draw from this experience, a lesson of almost extreme importance derived from a simple fact: the dog didn't bite her.
...Then she stops in her tracks. Why? Just... why? Why did the man feed the dog? If he had to feed any dog that he came across, how much would that cost him? Wouldn't it be more efficient to simply find a way to scare them? Take another path? Kick them, maybe?
The answer leaves her stuck under the rain.
>>Lucinda has developed a tolerance for animals. She may practice her Charisma with them.
