Post by Chicory Rue on May 27, 2006 9:31:10 GMT -5
Rue stepped into her room and looked around, sighing contendedly. The room had a homey, unsophisticated air about it: a homely little bed covered with a soft, patchwork quilt that Rue had sewn, and a wooden chair and a small table littered with leather-bound books in the corner. Various star charts and telescopes were strewn around the room; Chicory loved astronomy and often went out alone at night to stargaze.
Somehow, Rue had managed to smuggle in an enormous purple armchair (it took up nearly half the wall), of the sort that are so dear to badgers: overstuffed, poofy, and incredibly comfortable. Rue never did sleep in her tiny little bed (it was too small for her anyway); she always slept on her delightfully squashy purple armchair, which she collapsed into now with a happy little sigh.
Somehow, Rue had managed to smuggle in an enormous purple armchair (it took up nearly half the wall), of the sort that are so dear to badgers: overstuffed, poofy, and incredibly comfortable. Rue never did sleep in her tiny little bed (it was too small for her anyway); she always slept on her delightfully squashy purple armchair, which she collapsed into now with a happy little sigh.