Bored...

Oh, Mica was bored.

She'd been sleeping in the woods - she'd heard something about 'dorms', but she didn't know what those were, or where they were, so she'd been sleeping beneath an oversized oak tree.
And she was bored, although she'd just woken up.

The sun had risen a few hours ago - she guessed it to be about seven-o-clock human time. She yawned, stretched, too big cargo pants and matching tank top feeling comfortable, if not at home, on her willowy body.

She stood on two legs, throwing her hands above her head, hips jutting girlishly to the side as her mouth was engulfed by another huge yawn. What time had she gone to sleep last night? She didn't know, didn't care. Classes wouldn't be on for another few hours - she had time to play.

But what could she do? She wished there was someone to play with, who would run with her and explore with her just like she used to do with her pack. But these students didn't like doing that, they liked to sit and talk and - Mica frowned at this, nose wrinkling in disgust - kiss, whatever that was.

She walked to a stream, dropping to all fours and lapping water out of it - then bringing her hands together like a cup and drinking out of it the way she was taught, the human way. She'd just have to wait for something amusing to come along, like a stray butterfly or a rabbit she could chase.

Mica's ears perked up, and she grinned lightly. Something was walking nearby. And they were carrying... Ringing things. Her head cocked to the side in question, and she dropped down on all fours, ready to flee.

But there was nothing charging - in fact, the sound was becoming slower and slower; Mica sighed, and leaped across the stream without difficulty. If they weren't going to come to her, she'd have to come to them, that was all.

A boy. Her eyes widened, then narrowed into suspicious slits - was he looking for her? He had a point-spear, and Mica knew how much those hurt. She was glad she hadn't made any noise, and that she'd thought to peer through the bushes before jumping out and tackling him. She growled lightly, silver eyes still staring at the back of his head to see how he would respond to the noise.

Mica slanted her nose upward, standing up and crossing her arms over the white fabric. "Wasn't afraid." She muttered, defending herself, trying to be quiet enough that he wouldn't take her as a threat and kill her. "M'not afraid of you now, either. See?" She stepped out of the bushes, bare feet squishing against the dirt near the stream, and stood a foot or so away from him.

A long pause. "You jingle when you walk." She suddenly announced, a giggle bubbling from somewhere deep inside of her; she appeared shocked at the noise and took a step backwards as if it was the boy's fault. "Why do you have the ringers with you?"

"Necro... Mancers?" Mica frowned, leaning forward slightly. She hated to admit that she didn't know a word, as it made the humans laugh as if they were so much better then her, but he didn't seem too awful.

A hand slipped out unconsciously to touch the markings, but they faded before it got close enough. She jerked back again as if it was her fault, large eyes widening even more as the invisible water was pored over him, tangling his hair into a blond version of her silver hair, matted and tousled from lack of a comb; it somehow made her feel more comfortable around him, as if he was wild himself, although she knew this wasn't true.

She tilted her head to the side. "Yes. I've been sleeping here for a month now..." She frowned up at the sun, nodding and twirling around for no reason except that she'd found something halfway interesting to do. She stopped, suddenly, and turned back to him, her brow furrowing in worry. "Do you sleep here too? Am I intruding on your territory?"

Mica frowned again, wanting to ask what Abhorsens were, but not wanting to tire the boy with questions, make him mad. Well, they were different then the dead raisers, but the same. That was enough, right?

She scoffed at this, a human-like sound she'd picked up from her keeper. "I don't want to be like them, dirty and mean. Domesticated. " She spit the word out like it was a curse, and to her it was. "They don't want me to be around them, like them, anyway." She wriggled her wolf like ears pointedly, in case the boy had missed them - he didn't seem to be treating her as if she was different, which was odd indeed.

"What's your name, Abhorsen-boy?" She frowned, suddenly realizing there was a great amount of silvery hair in her eyes and pushing it awkwardly back.