Feb. 16th, 2007

fighting_mad: (long - head tilt)
The sun set hours ago. All day spent in meetings and treasury committee meetings and Plourr is in search of sustenance. She may not have much hope for her mind after today (and yesterday, but she is steadfastedly not thinking about yesterday), but her body has to go on, appetite or no appetite. Crouched in the kitchen, she digs around on the shelf, arm chilled by the artificial cold and hip chilled by the open appliance door resting against it.

"No," she mutters, setting down an ancient canister. "Not that. No. Frell. No."

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Plourr Estillo

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