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Last in pool
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Last in pool
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First in pool
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Last in pool
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Last in pool
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Max and Sydney both enjoyed a plate of Carne Asada tacos prepared by Penelope herself, who wore about five separate napkins on her evening dress. Sydney later explained to Max that Ms. Peahen was very anal about getting her clothing dirty. Max chuckled laughter through his toothbrush, wondering where in the devil she'd learned that particularly derogatory yet strangely fitting term. He nodded and spat foamy toothpaste out into a sink basin as Sydney flossed her chompers, staring at Maxwell the entire time. When they were both tidied up, Penelope offered spare blankets to Maxwell, refusing to make eye contact with the shep-coon. He wondered if the idea of his one good eye intimidated her, or maybe it was his hair. In any case, he thanked her kindly and proceeded to lay out a small makeshift padded sleeping space upon the floor of the guest room. Sydney watched him from the doorway, leaned up against a wooden frame, arm raised over her head, brows curled, one corner of her mouth perked upward, wondering what on earth he thought he was doing. "Y'know, you could just use the bed." She said to Max. The shep-coon started and reeled back, not expecting her to be there. "Oh what, did I scare you again? Jeez, man, relax." "Sorry. You're just so… silent! You'd make a very good ninja in another lifetime, I think." Max said, clearing his throat, ironing out the excess folds in the blanket with his paw-padded palms, attempting to catch his breath. "And thanks for the offer, but I'd rather not worry about messing the bedsheets up. It's made so well, I'd feel bad if I were to change that. Besides, I've always heard that second stories in these kind of houses tend to get… stuffy. So I figured why not camp out on the ground? Not too dirty and actually quite comfy." Sydney just looked at Max as if he were the biggest dork in all of existence. |
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GratitudeAdvocate |
