Genie de la Lune (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} wolfinboots) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg,@ 2014-11-08 03:29:00 |
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Who: Genie and OPEN
What: in which there must be food, and lots of it, preferably rare meat
Where: Finnegan’s
When: Saturday evening
Rating: SFW for now
Genie drug herself back to the Alleys as soon as Brighid got up to take over caring for Violet. It wasn’t that she wanted to get away, precisely; she felt more at home with her packmates than she did with anyone else. But she did want some food that definitely wasn’t in the house yet. Alexander hadn’t exactly had a chance to do the shopping while they were running around during the moon, and none of them really had before, especially not the levels of food they normally required with their metabolisms.
Alexander had driven them to and from their running grounds, and Brighid and Devon had first rights to sleep in. Gally always fell asleep no matter what, and Talia had watched Violet last month. So Genie had watched the baby, who cried and whined because the change hurt so badly and she was much too little to understand, let alone have some of the medication the older members took. So Genie had spent the morning and much of the afternoon with the little girl on her chest or walking around with her. Now that others were up, they would watch her and some would get food, but she was starving now and so it wouldn’t wait, even for the much needed sleep.
She’d done only cursory make up, not nearly her usual standards though she still looked nice, if rather tired. Some might mistake it for being hung-over; sometimes after the moon it certainly felt like it. She felt it in her joints, her bones, her tendons, everywhere. She hurt. Everywhere. It made the corners of her eyes and mouth a bit tight, but she’d already taken the allowable dose of pain killer she’d brewed before the moon. Sleep and a day or two would make everything right, but for now she felt twisted and stretched in impossible ways, and possibly lagging from the Wolfsbane, which hadn’t been up to her usual snuff, possibly due to old ingredients.
She found a table off to the side in Finnegans and immediately ordered several things off the menu, including some nicely rare meat that the wolf still craved despite hunting this week. She got an odd look for the quantity, but she ignored it with the ease of practice. “Rare, remember,” she said again, impressing it specifically so it would be that way. Once the order was off, she leaned back in her chair and felt her hunger war with her exhaustion, and she yawned, covering it with her hand belatedly.