Anabel is tired and Bartholomew, while just as lively as ever, seems to be a bit quieter as well. They're sitting outside the coffeeshop, the mechanical cat perched on the table while his owner nurses a very large cup cf coffee.
She looks a little worse for wear, a little down, but she's not saying much. Her body is tired and her mind is racing, a combination that leaves her on edge overall and awkward in her skin.
Anabel fiddles with her cup, fiddles with her shirt, with Batholomew's tail (which is less than amusing to him) and she looks like she's not sure what else to do.
She would not mind a distraction of some kind, a friendly face would be more than welcome to remind her that moving here and trying to make a life outside of her comfort zone was not the worst idea she ever had.
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She looks a little worse for wear, a little down, but she's not saying much. Her body is tired and her mind is racing, a combination that leaves her on edge overall and awkward in her skin.
Anabel fiddles with her cup, fiddles with her shirt, with Batholomew's tail (which is less than amusing to him) and she looks like she's not sure what else to do.
She would not mind a distraction of some kind, a friendly face would be more than welcome to remind her that moving here and trying to make a life outside of her comfort zone was not the worst idea she ever had.