Stavanger Bay Killing me softly

If she tried hard enough there was a good chance that Chrysanthemum could actually recall being such a small child herself. The bright eyes, the frizzy head, the rope like tail -they all enticed her as designed and pained something she couldn't quite figure. She wanted to squish it, in that overdose of affection sort of way, but when she tried to approach again the puppy drew back.

Disheartened, a now fully distracted Chrysanthemum stepped over her mess thoughtlessly and whined piteously at the thing. For reasons she dared not dwell on the rejection was bitter. So this is what Bughuul wants... now I understand. Folding her ears Chrys chose to overlook the demon's cruel manner in this instance and instead agreed with his basic wanting.

"No," she said eventually -forcibly pulling her attention away from the reluctant babe when it was made obvious he wanted nothing to do with her. "It was a special present for Nerian. I'll just have to try again later -but thanks." With her wits collected, it occurred to the juvenile just who the female was. "Thistle Cloud -right? You're Ragnar's woman and a herbalist." After a pause Chrysanthemum thought of a question, one that had lingered since her meeting with the Jarl. "Nerian is your slave too then right? Please if you have her today don't ruin the surprise."

Forced to shout after the wife, Chyrs gave a final glance at the bouquet before following. "Well... umm I don't actually think it -I mean Tveir likes me that much."