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Post by Kricketoon on Dec 7, 2009 17:08:25 GMT -6
"HERE LIES TIMNA FIDALLE" The words were written upon the tombstone of her husband. Her? Who is 'her'? Grema LeFleur Fidalle is 'her'. She lives here. She manages to survive off of the land, with a home upon strong hardwood and bamboo crafted stilts. She, a generally short, fair skinned, black oily haired, crooked teethed woman, who was nearing her time to go, was content with life here. She stayed here with her little dog, whom she had simply named, Checkers, for his black and white pattered appearance. She didn't know his breed, but if you must know, he is a Havanese. The house fell silent as Grema attempted to sew herself a scarf. The floors creaked, and Checkers sat at Grema's feet, whining to her because he wanted food. "It's okay, Checkers. I'm hungry too..." Grema said softly. She continued knitting, but no sooner had she started, Checkers began whining once more. "Alright! Alright! I'll make you some food." Grema got up and walked down the hallway stairs to what was her kitchen. She opened a small cabinet in her kitchen to reveal a small wooden box, filled with dry meats, preserved with a blend of parsley, cayenne pepper, and other spices. She had already cooked these meats, and Checkers absolutely loved them. She pulled out a small patty, which was about the size of a hand, and set it on the dusty floor of her shack. Checkers quickly devoured it, and ran up the hallway stairs to the mattress, pile of cushions and blankets which was Grema's bed. He curled up in a ball and quickly went to sleep. Grema let out a soft chuckle, and walked to the mattress to sleep. It was almost midnight.
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Post by luna101 on Dec 11, 2009 8:28:23 GMT -6
America looked at the house ashe passed he stopped America was not sure who lived in there so he went to investigate wich was very unlike him America stood on his haunched unsteadidly he remembered this from his training he pushed on the door and it popped open he stepped in wearily and looked around
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Post by Kricketoon on Dec 11, 2009 16:27:51 GMT -6
Grema, having heard the door open, thought, "Must be the wind." She swiftly walked downstairs, seeing America at the door. She gasped, then whistled for him to come. She walked to the cabinet, pulling out the little box of dried meats. She pulled out a fairly large one, and offered it to him.
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Post by luna101 on Dec 11, 2009 17:24:17 GMT -6
America walked forward wearily and sniffed the meat having not eaten in a few he days he ate it quickly
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Post by Kricketoon on Dec 27, 2009 17:00:14 GMT -6
"That's a good boy... You just eat as much as you like." She encouraged America to come upstairs so he could sleep where it was warm.
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Post by luna101 on Dec 27, 2009 19:37:44 GMT -6
America wearily padded up stairs stopping every few seconds to sniff around
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Post by Kricketoon on Dec 29, 2009 17:37:00 GMT -6
Grema chuckled. "Now don't you worry, Checkers," she said to her little black and white dog. "This dog is just here for a warm place to stay. Come boy," she said to America, encouraging him to jump up onto the bed which she had just layed down in. Checkers was resting on a blue fleece and cotton dog bed with a little yarn knit blanket folded up next to it.
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Post by luna101 on Jan 17, 2010 10:04:27 GMT -6
America slowly jumped onto the bed he curled up and went to sleep his ear with V was pointed towards Grema
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