Lost Creek Hollow Perfect

Jet squinched up her nose and stuck out her tongue at her dumb brother Spook. She didn't know why he had to go around making dumb noises of disapproval at her, or try to make even dumber suggestions like just waiting. Jet was pretty sure waiting was the most terrible of ideas no matter what anyone else said: case in point, here she was sitting obediently (finally) and waiting on this likely yotee and instead of obligingly slinking over to satisfy her curiosity he was skiving off now. What?! Jet frowned after him, and for a moment considered giving chase... but she was pretty sure his legs were longer than hers, and so were Mom's, so she was bound to get caught and stopped long before she could even come close to catching him up. So instead she made a mental note to keep an eye out for him and be sure to harrass him mercilessly better indulge her puppyish curiosity next time she saw him.

In the meantime however Ashlar was still being a wet noodle over here. She hadn't even done anything to him yet, not really, and already he was wilting like a dessicated flower in full sunshine. Good grief. He did finally meekly offer a "Can play" to her and Spook at least, but by now Jet's rather scathing words were ready to leap off her tongue before she could stop them. Can you? Really? She looked down her nose at the boy with doubt and scorn intermingling. This terrible lump was more and more of a sorry excuse for a puppy, in her mind, the more often she saw him, and a sorrier substitute for fascinatingly big and gangling 'yotee invaders. Jet didn't mean to be mean about it but she found it quite dubious Ashlar would be able to redeem himself at this point. Being boring was such a horrendous cardinal sin to find in a peer! She sure wished Sionnach was here instead.