WHO: Captain Guyliner Hook, Ariel WHERE: Ouijawook Park. WHEN: Today-ish! WHAT: A stroll in the park turns interesting, because nice things can't be had. WARNINGS: R, Hook's lovely selection of the English vocabulary (likely), violence, adult sexual situations. STATUS: In Progress.
She'd always been under the impression that parks were actually nicer than this, but she should have figured not - Marrowood was doom and gloom and often not much else. Except for the monthly holidays. Ariel didn't really understand them, but she liked practicing whatever tradition went with it. Christmas was the new one, and she'd still been trying to wrap her mind around the concept of Santa Claus and despite much inner debate, it didn't make sense.
It was all trivial nonsense, though. A welcome distraction from recent events. Hungry lake beasts. Hook getting torn apart in the forest. Him dying a second time, and how worried she was that if a third time took place, he might not come back. How generous was this place, really, in terms of resurrection? Unless someone could spell it out for her, she didn't want anymore chances.
She recovered nicely. Did was she was told. Slept, for the most part. She could only take so much before confinement had driven her to crankyness. Bandages were fresh and wrapped, the wounds were closing, so Ariel was ready for a stupid walk today no matter what.
"I still have a hard time believing this one guy has roped a bunch of elves to make toys," she said, words muffled by the chew of the last bite of churro she had. She swallowed and licked her lips clean from sticky sweetness. "It's kind of cruel, if you think about it."