Who: Poppy & Clare What: Cats that aren't cats, secrets and deep conversation. Ish. When: May 21st, early afternoon Where: The Midway Rating: maybe language?
Poppy didn't like moving days, but she liked how busy everyone was. And it meant getting away from mountains and snow to hopefully someplace warmer and a little more accommodating for pixies that couldn't flit around in their natural form if they didn't want to possibly, maybe die. And Poppy did not want to do such a silly thing any time soon.
Instead she had opted to hide a few things that people were now frantically looking for, which always put her in a very good mood. Swiping an unattended book that she tucked under her dress in passing she twirled around once, twice, three times until she found a new direction to head in. All this restless energy was contagious, and someone who was behaving like a small child on a sugar bender on a slow day this was really almost too much. Almost.
A movement near the ground caught her attention, there was a beast but not a big beast, she was confident that she could kick it if it came to a confrontation, so she followed the flash of red fur around a corner, dropping the book in the process. It had been forgotten seconds after she had spotted it, anyway. and there were no pretty pictures.
When she turned the corner she didn't see a cat, as one could expect if one follows a cat. Rolling onto the balls of her feet and back she worried her bottom lip between her front teeth for a moment as she tried to process the situation. After a few moments she shrugged, giving up on her own brain. "Are you a cat. I don't think you look very cat-y but a cat went in and now you're here. Or is this another magic trick? They put them into small boxes and call them phones and I think they're all lying because they have to be evil magic and I'm Poppy. Hello!"