The moment I lay eyes on the Olim, I knew he was a dead man.
He sits to the left of Heela as she watches him eat Avram stew.
The sunlight is fading, bringing with it soft whimpers of the wind.
There are only two in the trees today.
Pookie, and another who reeks of self hate.
My lady doesn't raise her hand.
My lady doesn't eat.
My lady rests her face on her hand, and stares him down.
My lady is infuriated.
"Calm down Heela, it isn't such a big deal".
His voice is calm in between each bite.
His bright white pupils glancing at me before diving for some more red bread.
"It's just a pet... you have plenty"!
"I even gave you Milk".
His silver ponytail bounces as he chews loudly, and smacks his lips unashamedly.
A bit would drop on his silver facial hair, and he doesn't even wipe it off.
I can tell this is bothering her, she hates messy things.
My lady is neat.
