she raccoon chitters at her from above, weaving tightly between the branches. for a moment, she loses sight of it, but it reappears soon enough.
"hello," she calls softly, lowering herself onto the snow. her gaze is fixated upward, oblivious to all around her. she does not know how quell had done it. she crafts herself into the picture of demure friendliness, even tries to project a sense of contentedness toward the creature.
it does not budge. it stares at her and she at it, tail occasionally wafting at her rear.
"you could be my homeboy, if you'd like," she offers. the raccoon does not budge.
Rosalyn arrived just in time to hear her daughter's final words to the chittering creature, and she laughed, softly so as not to frighten either of them. What are you doing, hija?
She asked in an undertone, approaching slowly and eyeing the other creature dubiously.
Was her daughter attempting to make friends with the animal, or charm it into dinner? She was not sure which of the options she liked more, but the latter she at least understood.
"oh!" she exclaims as her mother's voice startles her into peering back over her shoulder. the raccoon takes the chance to vanish further up the tree; a quick glance back reveals only a dim-lit pair of eyes staring back from the upper branches. back to her mother, then, admitting, "I was trying to get him, um, to be my homeboy." she feels a little bashful admitting it, though Q certainly hadn't displayed anything of the sort when she'd shown of her otter.
Rosalyn smiled, though she was more than a little confused. Your 'homeboy'.
There was a lilt of affectionate amusement to her tone, but she looked up at the tree. She'd scared the creature further up it seemed.
And what gave you that idea?
she asked, curious. It wasn't a bad concept, per say, but it was a strange one. She'd met wolves who kept the company of other creatures, but very rarely. The Redhawk girl came to mind.
