Post by spender on Jun 16, 2010 0:25:37 GMT -5
"You'd like to do it, Spender?"
"Yeah," the ferret replied. He began scraping the leftovers on his plate into one big pile; all the easier to scoop up. Meat, cheese and peas (he hadn't asked for peas, but they had somehow found his way onto his plate, and if he was going to clean up, he figured he might as well do it the easiest way he knew how.)
He had a hard time restraining a grin. The fools! They had no idea, did they? Well, maybe Elliot did, but he didn't seem too anxious to fight Spender over it. Probably, Spender decided, because he'd gone and had some of Caden's cake. The beech marten was a bit of a jerk, wasn't he? Spender had been left to his own devices after throwing up, and he'd just gone and eaten cake with Caden! The nerve!
Well, he wasn't sharing any of his!
"Hey, Carrow, Did you know that it was Caden's birthday today?"
"Pff," Spender scoffed—which seemed to be about all he had to say on the subject. Birthdays in the Cielciosk family were odd affairs. His parents were too old to put up much fuss when theirs came around, and his father preferred to make entire banquet spreads rather than just a simple cake. Erinpura's birthdays usually involved gelatin desserts, whereas Spender and Serafine, being twins, much preferred pudding and cream-filled biscuits. Cake was still had on occasion, but the ferret had no way of linking it to the traditional birthday snack, having no proper friends of his own to visit on their birthdays.
To put it simply, he could not make the connection, and continued quite happily to putter about collecting the dishes from their table.
Then he found himself at a loss. Where was he to go, to clean them? Was he really going to scrub, or just deliver them to someone who did the scrubbing? He couldn't immediately spot anyone else packing up their mess's dishes, so he stood by the table, waiting until another group was finished to follow their designated dish-washer.
"Hmm-hm-hmmm, b'rrrup-up-tum, d'doo'd'doo, dookdook, huuuup-prr-hm-hm-hm-d'dook-hmmmm," he dooked and hummed as he stood there holding the stack of plates. Cake was on the horizon!
"Yeah," the ferret replied. He began scraping the leftovers on his plate into one big pile; all the easier to scoop up. Meat, cheese and peas (he hadn't asked for peas, but they had somehow found his way onto his plate, and if he was going to clean up, he figured he might as well do it the easiest way he knew how.)
He had a hard time restraining a grin. The fools! They had no idea, did they? Well, maybe Elliot did, but he didn't seem too anxious to fight Spender over it. Probably, Spender decided, because he'd gone and had some of Caden's cake. The beech marten was a bit of a jerk, wasn't he? Spender had been left to his own devices after throwing up, and he'd just gone and eaten cake with Caden! The nerve!
Well, he wasn't sharing any of his!
"Hey, Carrow, Did you know that it was Caden's birthday today?"
"Pff," Spender scoffed—which seemed to be about all he had to say on the subject. Birthdays in the Cielciosk family were odd affairs. His parents were too old to put up much fuss when theirs came around, and his father preferred to make entire banquet spreads rather than just a simple cake. Erinpura's birthdays usually involved gelatin desserts, whereas Spender and Serafine, being twins, much preferred pudding and cream-filled biscuits. Cake was still had on occasion, but the ferret had no way of linking it to the traditional birthday snack, having no proper friends of his own to visit on their birthdays.
To put it simply, he could not make the connection, and continued quite happily to putter about collecting the dishes from their table.
Then he found himself at a loss. Where was he to go, to clean them? Was he really going to scrub, or just deliver them to someone who did the scrubbing? He couldn't immediately spot anyone else packing up their mess's dishes, so he stood by the table, waiting until another group was finished to follow their designated dish-washer.
"Hmm-hm-hmmm, b'rrrup-up-tum, d'doo'd'doo, dookdook, huuuup-prr-hm-hm-hm-d'dook-hmmmm," he dooked and hummed as he stood there holding the stack of plates. Cake was on the horizon!