12-11-2018, 09:57 PM
―――― Gingerbread houses. She could recall perhaps one time, when she was young, that she had made one with her family. Back when she could see, that was. While her vision had gone fairly early into her childhood, and she had spent much of her life learning to navigate without the sight and the depth perception that others relied on, she could still sometimes remember digging deep into her memories. It was hard to remember what anything looked like anymore; she didn't know what she looked like, nor what any of her clanmates looked like, nor what her own mother looked like anymore. Yet, sometimes she would try, to think of what those tiny little gingerbread houses had looked like, or what her favorite blanket had looked like. She knew the colors that had been donned upon it, yet the actual shades had now left her memories.
Yet she could not forget the smell of the sweet sugar or the gingerbread from her memories. It was the first thing that had drawn her forth, her paws carefully settling upon the ground, low and slow as her bracers on her wrists served as a means of finer control, stopping her paws from extending too far forward and hastening her step too wide, an idle reminder to keep her center of gravity lower. The closer she got, the more the scent of Stryker became apparent, making the woman briefly have a pause before she ignored the lingering thoughts of her head and continued forward. She would not ask for help in putting it together, but she had a feeling that any house she attempted to make would be 'interesting' in character. It didn't stop her however, slowly moving herself forward until her shoulder brushed against the table, her paws slowly moving then to get a feel for what was around the table; some bowls, some of the gingerbread pieces, and bags of frosting. With her brows furrowing softly, she took up a square of gingerbread, feeling its edges carefully to try and determine what peice it was before taking up the bag of frosting in her other hand, doing her best job to start gluing down the main foundation.
Yet she could not forget the smell of the sweet sugar or the gingerbread from her memories. It was the first thing that had drawn her forth, her paws carefully settling upon the ground, low and slow as her bracers on her wrists served as a means of finer control, stopping her paws from extending too far forward and hastening her step too wide, an idle reminder to keep her center of gravity lower. The closer she got, the more the scent of Stryker became apparent, making the woman briefly have a pause before she ignored the lingering thoughts of her head and continued forward. She would not ask for help in putting it together, but she had a feeling that any house she attempted to make would be 'interesting' in character. It didn't stop her however, slowly moving herself forward until her shoulder brushed against the table, her paws slowly moving then to get a feel for what was around the table; some bowls, some of the gingerbread pieces, and bags of frosting. With her brows furrowing softly, she took up a square of gingerbread, feeling its edges carefully to try and determine what peice it was before taking up the bag of frosting in her other hand, doing her best job to start gluing down the main foundation.