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New Rp

It was only a few days away from Christmas, and yet, here in this tropical less-than-paradise, the sun was shining brightly. It rained far less often than it should on this Hell Island- unless you counted the tears.

"Reu, don't run off," Em said, more to the weaving strands in her lap than to the dog that bounded about her chasing a butterfly. She hadn't accompanied the command with the 'stay near me' hand gesture that the dog recognized; she wasn't concerned with the mutt running off. It was a beautiful day, and he needed some freedom to run- too often these days Reuben had been delegated to the life of a Duplex Dog. Emelyn hadn't realized how little the dog had been exposed to the wild outdoors he loved so much since the day before, when she'd taken him with her on a trip to her drying rack to retrieve the last bits of weaving grass she'd prepared. Reuben had gone insane with happiness, bounding through the jungle brush and leaping about the surf with a canine abandon she'd not seen in months. It was then that she'd decided she'd make more of an effort to give the dog what he needed- thus, this unlikely respite in the middle of the day, sitting in the Village Proper with her weaving strands in her lap.

The woman smelled funny. Luckily, everyone on the island smelled funny, so Reuben wasn't fazed by that fact. He practically danced out to meet the woman who smelled of several different types of animals, and presented himself to be petted and sniffed at her legs, hoping to decipher the meaning of her combination of smells.

Emelyn looked up to see the beast running full tilt at the woman, and narrowed her eyes against the sun to try and discern any recognizable features. She couldn't tell for sure- but the general lack of major changes seemed to suggest to the hedgehog woman that this person was a newer addition to Moreau's human zoo, and one she'd not yet met. Emelyn sighed, her fingers undaunted in their weaving task.

"Reuben. His name is Reuben." Emelyn chimed in. The girl hadn't seemed to notice her sitting there in the semi-shade. "He's a friendly beast- he'll lick your face off if you half let him." She smiled, a strange expression across her muzzled face.

"Emelyn. Nice to meet you." She clicked her tongue and gave a short whistle to the dog, and he sat down, obediant but expectant. "You?"

The roughness of the dry grass was nothing against the pads on the interior of her hands, so Emelyn had to massage the wide strand between two fingers to remind her senses that it was still there. On her face, the smile had faded, but as it was an unnatural appearance for the animalistic features anyway, the lack of it did not paint her mood as being overly negative.

"Oh yes. Long time." She'd found that it was better to leave further elaboration to specific questioning. No need to advertise to the newer folks that she had been a 'guest' on Hell Island for well over a year. "You seem to be a... newer arrival. A few months, I'm guessing?"

"I'm from Rhode Island. Mostly, anyway." She narrowed her eyes against the sun again, "...Shenzi's an interesting name," she said, smiling again, "I mean, I know I'm one to talk, but even so. Is it a family name?" She'd finished another row, and so let the dark rush basket sink deeper into her lap, and out of view.

Reuben was half-drunk with the attention, and flipped himself over completely to go belly-up to the sun. His bi-colored tail whapped against the ground and wiggled in tandem with his squirmy legs. Em smiled, but responded not to the mutt.

"Well, either name is ear-catching." She didn't respond to the mention of Czech, though in her head she had that niggling thing that everyone does when they hear something that relates to something they've done. Everyone has it: when you mention DisneyWorld, if that person has been to Disneyworld, that trip will jump up in their minds- or if you speak about your dog, inevitably, the other person will be focusing on theirs. Some people even go out of their way to make broad-end connections to whatever someone else suggests, and bring it up so that they might have some handhold on the conversation. Emelyn suppressed this one. ...She didn't, always. But it hardly seemed appropriate at the moment to mention that she had lived in Czech for a time.

"So, what sort of performance did you do that you needed a stage name?" It was then that she realized she'd been looking up at the girl for a good few minutes, and so she patted the shade nearest to her. "I'm sorry. Would you like to sit?"

When the new petter sat, Reuben flipped himself over, kicking up some dust as he did so, and continued his run around the sitting pair. It wasn't long before he found something to chase and bounded off after it, staying just within view of Emelyn as he frolicked.

"Mmm," Em said, watching the dog as he went, "this place does tend to... derail plans rather effectively." She twisted a strand beneath her fingers, and looked over at the girl near her. Her hands were already quite transformed, and she caught a flash of a tail as she sat- but even so, Emelyn wasn't sure what she was becoming. It didn't matter much- except, really, to know what sort of animal to look for if she wanted to recognize this newcomer in a matter of weeks or months. Appearances were a fickle thing, here.