Cracks in the Ceiling [Jasper] Nov 23, 2012 16:30:47 GMT -5
Post by Noisette Todd on Nov 23, 2012 16:30:47 GMT -5
Oh, how she wished Mark would leave her snares alone.
Noisette would have thought he’d figured out to do so, considering the way she’d chewed him out the first couple of times. But no, the prat had flounced right up to her and told her very plainly that the rabbit he was carrying was from the traps she’d set. Apparently, that was okay because he’d been out that way on patrol, and he thought he’d save her the oh-so-arduous trip.
First off, he’d stolen the fun of finding a snare with a catch in it. That didn’t happen very often, since she had to set them within or fairly close to Fulsi territory. If she set them outside the city limits, she risked catching something that was rotten by the time she could come over and find it.
Second, as she’d looked the carcass over to make sure he hadn’t damaged it, the idiot had casually remarked that it had taken a couple of tries to break the neck. What could have been a very quick, painless death had gotten drawn out by his incompetence.
Third, he’d offered to skin and clean them for her. At least he’d been so confident at that point, but somehow he still didn’t realize that she would prefer to do things herself. Knowing him, she suspected he thought the blood and guts would bother her. The thought ticked her off even more.
But she’d managed to leave calmly, after confiscating the carcass…and Mark’s skinning knife. It wasn’t hard to coerce him into lending it, and Noisy didn’t have one. But there was no way she was letting him fix up the dead lapine. It wasn’t just a matter of not rewarding him for his annoying behavior. He’d probably burst something inside and get it all over the meat, or miss some sign of the rabbit being diseased.
Making away with all this proved a bit difficult; her hands were each occupied with a full bucket from the water run she’d just returned from. The knife fit in her pocket, but the rabbit wound up draped over her shoulder, which was tilted awkwardly to keep it from falling.
By the time she reached her destination, however, it had slid off only once, and balancing it gave her a distraction. As she entered one of the storerooms, her thoughts about certain idiots were more resigned than violent. As long as she didn't think about people who assumed she was a wuss, or wouldn't leave her crap alone or ignored what she told them, she would be fine. In fact, she was calm enough that she didn't roll her eyes when she realized someone else was in the room. She only glanced long enough to identify the person and mutter an absent-minded greeting. “Hullo, Jasper.”