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 Posted: Sun Apr 13, 2008 7:50 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 1:39 pm
Random Event!
An important lesson is just around the corner for the little weasel.
Over the span of a few weeks, Roulette has becme progressively itchier... and itchier.... and then even itchier.
Soon little red bumps have appeared on his bare skin... and whats worse... it seems theres some small little insects living in that fur of his... A flea collar might be a good idea.
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Posted: Tue May 06, 2008 11:34 pm
timestamp; 10:36 PM may 06 2008 Roule scratched at his fur, irritated by the tingling sensation all over his body. This was... weird. He had never felt so stupidly itchy in his life, except for maybe that one time he knocked over some nail polish remover and it got all over his hands, but that just made his hands cold and numb, plus maybe a little bit of tingling. This was setting his fur on fire.
With another scratch, the weasel boy stormed upstairs to find his mother. He hadn't wanted to admit anything was wrong for the longest time - he had almost held out for 3 days, refusing his mother's inquiries every step of the way, but the inflammation had escalated to the point where Roule could hardly keep still. Vince followed him up the steps, a small glance of worry flickering across his features. Although living with his assigned child was a trying experience, he couldn't help feeling concern for the weasel. The dragon managed to get a few nips of the boy's pajamas before Roule shooed him away. They weren't very good pajamas, but the action was almost reflexive. Ever since the weasel had found Vince in his closet chewing on his favorite tie, he had taken precautions against his dragon's jaws. Roule scowled as a fresh wave of irritance washed over him, and he scratched his collarbone. He was glad his hair was no longer as lengthy; the pale boy was sure it would only have been more annoying.
"You have got to be kidding me," came a voice from the upstairs hallway as Roule climbed the last steps. "you came." Nev, who had just peeked out of her office door, sighed and straightened.
The weasel glared reproachfully before sticking out a skinny arm. Beneath the white fur, there were splatters of redness: signs of scratching. The woman approached him and knelt to inspect it. Roule winced when her nails grazed over it before putting on a sullen expression that caused Vince to butt him in the side. The boy scowled and blew a raspberry before looking back at his mother.
She had gone for a second before reappearing with a bottle of itch powder and shook it onto the pink skin. Roule winced again. "It's not working."
"Give it a bit, mia vita. Siete troppo impazienti; you are too impatient."
Roule huffed, offended that his mother had chatised him. "It's still not working."
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