Although her day had started just a few hours ago after a late awakening, it was already, in Kisaragi's opinion, shaping up to be a very bad one. The sun was shining like a bare bulb with an overabundance of wattage, the forests were humming with wild insect copulation, and there was so much dust in the air that the slight-seeming female was giving serious consideration to pulling her bandana down around her sensitive nose and playing an outlaw for a while. Shaking her body out only produced a puff of dirt that billowed from where it had accumulated on her scalp and beneath her fur before it resettled or was replaced by further debris. Her tails were literally magnets for the stuff, and the sleek blackness had taken on an unkempt appearance mere minutes into walking around in the breezy area.Yuffie was, by nature and careful breeding, not the type of girl who appreciated a losing situation, even if she was losing due to sheer laziness alone. Grooming seemed like a fantastic waste of time for more reasons than one: firstly, because she didn't really care what she looked like, ever, even if it involved putting on ten pounds and needing to hunt around for a new pair of shorts. The second explanation involved locating some sort of niche in a tree or a slot of stone in a cave somewhere so that she could clean up in peace, which was way too much effort. She'd just be dirty and like it.
The Wutaian heir sneezed suddenly after a particularly stiff gust of air blew a titanic wave of motes in her direction, vision blurring for an instant into some chocolaty muddle. She was forced to settle back on her haunches and rub at eyes the color of gunmetal with a paw, cursing very loudly and emphatically at anything she could think of. Stupid forest. Stupid trees. Stupid enthusiastic bugs swarming around her head and doing mid-air acrobatics near her ears. Why didn't the dust just drown them too? Life was epically unfair on the continent.
