Whitefish River Bored by the chore of saving face

Unlike her brother, Spica wasn't as laid-back and relaxed taking in the world. Everything was cool and new and there were things to chew on, hell yeah! The memories of the king she had been were waning, perhaps, but remnants of who he had been seemed to cling to her subconscious like a cloak; sometimes warm and light, sometimes dark and made of iron.

Raaaaw! she bellowed loudly as she pounced at her brother. He had a stick and that meant that she wanted a stick! She aimed for her brother, though if she'd manage to knock the stick from his mouth she would go for that right away to steal it from him.