Her face, spattered with sun-stroked freckles and golden apple-kissed nostrils, lay upon the marshy earth that subsided beneath her. Her paw, small and delicate - though fierce and sharp, sank into the wet turf as she prodded questioningly at what lay before her; a mouse, whose whiskers tweaked uncertainly each time it was gently battered. It scurried against her touch, its noises squeaking and unappreciative of God's apparent choice to give such a nuisance so much curiosity.Ornella wrinkled her nose with question at her toy's behavior, whereupon she moved on to nibble at the rodent's tail wonderingly.
I scurried from her - then - more quickly than it had come, and she rose from her place to pounce after it with the playfulness childhood had gifted her.
Much to her disapproval, it managed to squeeze its way through an absurdly small crevice amongst a collection of large and river-smoothed rocks.
She managed to get the majority of her paw into the sanctuary it had escaped to, but recalled the numerous times when Madeline had told her stories of deadly snakes and disgusting insects.
Ornella bit her lip and reluctantly let it be...
... Almost.
"Make me your queen~" She pounced onto the rock roughly, "You hear that, Peasant-Mousey? Come out this very eensie-weensie minute, I demand! I demand, I demand, I demand!" The runt pounded her paw against the stone whilst she attempted to order the mouse into her presence again; she had therefore almost lost her footing, but quickly caught herself.
And when the small creature hadn't appeared, she huffed grouchily.
