Post by Silver Owl on May 6, 2011 23:12:57 GMT -5
Rain was beating a gentle spring tattoo on Sheena's straw hat, though she couldn't hear it. In fact, she couldn't hear much of anything-not even the heavy saurian tread of her companion-thanks to the omnipresent voice of the city.
It weirded her out every time. Made her want to scream and shout and make herself heard. Worse, it made her long for the echoing somnolence of dawn in Treetown, when nothing was awake, and nothing broke the silence but the occasional sleepy rumble or burble, and that just wouldn't do.
And so, when Po let it be know that her family would be making the trip to the capitol, Sheena was one of the first to volunteer to join the Parasaurolophus herd, not just because she rather liked Po, herself, but because, well, Sheena was bored. The sleepy, pastoral pace of Treetown had sunk into her bones and settled there like a lazy old bird and wouldn't be budged, and she could think of no better way to ruin a reputation.
The expedition was formed, the journey made, and very soon now she would be at loose ends in the greatest of the island's metropolises. So, food and lodging and fun, and maybe she could convince her friend to meet her somewhere later. She was, after all, nearly as good as herself when it came to finding-or making-mischief, and probably looking forward to it, and wasn't there a nice cafe here somewhere? The one with the big, open air garden and sweet tea by the bucket full?
It weirded her out every time. Made her want to scream and shout and make herself heard. Worse, it made her long for the echoing somnolence of dawn in Treetown, when nothing was awake, and nothing broke the silence but the occasional sleepy rumble or burble, and that just wouldn't do.
And so, when Po let it be know that her family would be making the trip to the capitol, Sheena was one of the first to volunteer to join the Parasaurolophus herd, not just because she rather liked Po, herself, but because, well, Sheena was bored. The sleepy, pastoral pace of Treetown had sunk into her bones and settled there like a lazy old bird and wouldn't be budged, and she could think of no better way to ruin a reputation.
The expedition was formed, the journey made, and very soon now she would be at loose ends in the greatest of the island's metropolises. So, food and lodging and fun, and maybe she could convince her friend to meet her somewhere later. She was, after all, nearly as good as herself when it came to finding-or making-mischief, and probably looking forward to it, and wasn't there a nice cafe here somewhere? The one with the big, open air garden and sweet tea by the bucket full?
Is it just us?