- Jan 13, 2017
- 955
- Gender
- female
- Pronouns
- doesn't matter
- Posting Status
- Irregularly

As the final dragging beeep from her parents' answering machine rang (one of the only tiny phones available to them in Italy), she felt a sense of dread coat her throat. She'd called the same number over and over for days on end now - what if?
No - she shook her head vigorously, making her long white hair bounce back and forth. They were still on the run from those nasty human adult people with the yellow hats, and couldn't answer the phone. It must have been the case. There was nothing to worry about, they were okay, and so were her friends and sisters.
Still, the dread only left the tiny fae for a few minutes as she took out her paper-clipped string and tossed the end towards the ceiling. One tug and she was zooming toward the ceiling, then falling back down. Her dress fell back, and she couldn't help but stifle a smile. Her way of travel was her favorite way of travel - by swinging from anything she could find. It was truly il miglore - the very best. She kicked her legs up, pushing against the ceiling, swinging, faster and faster until - oh! There she was flung, flying across the room! Grinning, she tugged on her string and brought it up again, to stick to the next thing she was aiming for - the next foothold, the next swinging point.
Soon she was vaulting and catapulting from ceiling to doorknob, to painting frame, and finally landing on the floor, And caught a reflection of her depressed state, in all its glory. She remembered the dread again.
Olive, truly, was procrastinating going back to class.
And so, she decided, she was going on strike. Those numbers in math class, in a language she was only now learning, were in fact evil, Olive thought. Especially not when she looked the way she was feeling - like total trash. This virus thingie - whatever it was - wasn't helping either: it made her irritable and sad, and she liked no part of it.
Walking along the gardens of the Courtyard, she decided to plop down and just... just rest. For a second, at least. Among all the flowers that reminded her more of home and of her familia.
Maybe she would draw! That always helped to cheer her up after those stupid numbers.