Barrow Fields synecdoche

Kitsch’s swimming aquamarine gaze danced from thing to thing, her mind counted the trees, she flicked her ink-dipped ears against the sounds of the world. It was all so different from moment to moment, but all so eerily the same. Though Kitsch’s posture was relaxed, her muscles and bones steeled themselves against the grinding weight of it all. Kitsch’s sighed, hoping to ride herself of the omnipresent anxiety. She wanted to find her family but she was so hungry and so tired. Kitsch wanted to try and hunt but she was so clumsy at it. At times she had resorted to eating roots and leaves... which was not the sort of nourishment that she would need fuel all of her [failed] endeavors away from her bailiwick.

A low chuff draws her attention and she sees a boy coming towards her. Kitsch’s slow heartbeat quickened at the sight of the oncomer; for it has been quite some time since she had contact with another. Kitsch also was struck with anxiety about how to treat the wolf and how to act during their impending interaction; for she had only acted one way her entire life [spoiled and entitled, of course], but now she was out of her own jurisdiction. It was all so beyond her — she had never prepared for a life as a pauper. The pearl did not understand how this all worked.

Despite her apprehension and heart that thumped wildly in her chest, Kitsch regarded the newcomer closely and let out one cool, uncaring “Hi.”