Post by Skye on Jul 26, 2008 17:37:13 GMT -5
Emberlyn looked around the quiet dining cavern, noting that quite a few of the glow baskets were either dim or completely out. She shifted the pouch on her shoulder, it holding glows to replenish the those that needed it. She smiled to herself and laughed softly, glad that she hadn't been assigned to do laundry with her twin. She loved her sister to death, but she was tiresome at times.
Emberlyn made her way over to the closet dim glows and set the pouch on the table. Of course the basket would have to be too high for her to reach from the floor. She made a face and slid one of the benches closer, carefully stepping onto it. She grabbed two glows from the pouch before standing up straight, the bench wobbling slightly under her. She frowned and stood still for a moment, regaining her balance.
She was supposed to be working with another candidate, but she hadn't wanted to wait for him in the storage room, rather wanting to get the chore down so that she could find something better to do, like maybe try to find a way to get sent back home to her happy chore of being a scribe. She had hoped when she heard of the candidate chore list being put up that she would be assigned to assist with records, but no here she was changing dim glows on a wobbly bench in the quiet dinning cavern. Oh the fun of being a candidate, she though to herself as she reached for the glow basket, her perch a bit more precarious as she reached.
Emberlyn made her way over to the closet dim glows and set the pouch on the table. Of course the basket would have to be too high for her to reach from the floor. She made a face and slid one of the benches closer, carefully stepping onto it. She grabbed two glows from the pouch before standing up straight, the bench wobbling slightly under her. She frowned and stood still for a moment, regaining her balance.
She was supposed to be working with another candidate, but she hadn't wanted to wait for him in the storage room, rather wanting to get the chore down so that she could find something better to do, like maybe try to find a way to get sent back home to her happy chore of being a scribe. She had hoped when she heard of the candidate chore list being put up that she would be assigned to assist with records, but no here she was changing dim glows on a wobbly bench in the quiet dinning cavern. Oh the fun of being a candidate, she though to herself as she reached for the glow basket, her perch a bit more precarious as she reached.