Information
Esme
Legacy Name: Esme
The
Glacier PopokoOwner:
finchAge: 14 years, 5 months, 3 weeks
Born: November 2nd, 2009
Adopted: 5 years, 4 months, 2 weeks ago
Adopted: December 11th, 2018
Statistics
- Level: 14
- Strength: 32
- Defense: 33
- Speed: 31
- Health: 33
- HP: 33/33
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
"But why me?" Esme wondered, her voice thick as tears fought to overcome her.
"Because you can see us," replied the creature, inspecting her face like she were a fish in an aquarium, its cold, spindly fingers caressing her skin. She suppressed a shiver at the strange touch.
"Surely I can not be the only one," she said. "There must be others, someone more qualified, someone..." Someone who has a reason to wake in the morning, she mused. Someone with a purpose, someone who had a job, and a family; something more than a rickety apartment by the sea, riddled with German cockroaches and rotten floorboards that creaked when the wind touched them.
...
"What should I call you?" she asked, unraveling herself in an act of boldness. "Do you have a name?" The creature paused for a moment, looking deep in thought, and Esme wondered if it really had a brain. Shortly, in a show of impressive flexibility, it reached over her head and onto the ground behind her, where it leapt like a large, gangly, unearthly frog.
"No, I don't think I have one," it said, staring at her with its head on the ground and feet in the air, with contentment written on its face, as if this was a very normal thing to do. "You should give me a name! I've always wanted one!" It grinned at her, all teeth, and she smiled back, though it was really more of a grimace. What could she possibly name such a creature? It was unlike anything she had ever seen, dark as the night and just human enough to be eerie.
"Shade?" Esme suggested after a silent minute. The creature, who had remained upside down the entire time, leapt to its feet in what Esme could only describe as joy.
"Shade!" it chirped. "Esme, you're very good at naming things!"
Esme did not even have time to ponder how the creature knew her name before bony arms were being wrapped around her in a great bear hug, and she could do nothing more than laugh.profile template by User not found: ulrich.
"Because you can see us," replied the creature, inspecting her face like she were a fish in an aquarium, its cold, spindly fingers caressing her skin. She suppressed a shiver at the strange touch.
"Surely I can not be the only one," she said. "There must be others, someone more qualified, someone..." Someone who has a reason to wake in the morning, she mused. Someone with a purpose, someone who had a job, and a family; something more than a rickety apartment by the sea, riddled with German cockroaches and rotten floorboards that creaked when the wind touched them.
...
"What should I call you?" she asked, unraveling herself in an act of boldness. "Do you have a name?" The creature paused for a moment, looking deep in thought, and Esme wondered if it really had a brain. Shortly, in a show of impressive flexibility, it reached over her head and onto the ground behind her, where it leapt like a large, gangly, unearthly frog.
"No, I don't think I have one," it said, staring at her with its head on the ground and feet in the air, with contentment written on its face, as if this was a very normal thing to do. "You should give me a name! I've always wanted one!" It grinned at her, all teeth, and she smiled back, though it was really more of a grimace. What could she possibly name such a creature? It was unlike anything she had ever seen, dark as the night and just human enough to be eerie.
"Shade?" Esme suggested after a silent minute. The creature, who had remained upside down the entire time, leapt to its feet in what Esme could only describe as joy.
"Shade!" it chirped. "Esme, you're very good at naming things!"
Esme did not even have time to ponder how the creature knew her name before bony arms were being wrapped around her in a great bear hug, and she could do nothing more than laugh.
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