Scurry

April 25, 2005 8:23 PM

Orders are the best things about being a Prairie Elf by Scurry

Scurry hurried along the path to where Master Paul Simon had directed him to take the next stage of the clean up. The wooden bucket he was carrying was almost as big as himself and had long since sloshed its contents out – mostly onto the bedraggled (or perhaps that should be bedribbled) prairie elf. Somehow, balancing it though more luck than skill, he had also managed to carry along what looked to be an odd mix between a mop and a brush on a pole that was easily five or six times as long as he was tall. It hadn’t helped his journey much, getting caught in every thing in its path, and at one point vaulting the hapless elf several feet into the air. But – despite the many mishaps – he did make it to where he had been sent, and dropping his burden, Scurry snapped off a smart salute…. which would have been much smarter if his hand hadn’t managed to get tangled with his longer ear…. and if Master Paul Simon had actually been there.

“Master Paul Simon, Sir,” he called, barely containing his great joy at being able to obey the commands that the wonderful master gave him, yet still managing to sound worried by the lack of said master’s presence. “I is here, Sir! Scurry is here and he is bringing the bucket of soapy water and the cleaning pole like you is asking him-” Scurry, looked around puzzled. Generally at his point, Master Paul Simon would have said something. ‘No’ or ‘Scurry!’ (usually in a tone of voice that Scurry hadn’t quite connected with him having done something incredibly wrong). He frowned, as only a prairie elf could, his long nose twisting slightly to the right, his large ear and his half an ear bending inwards in reaction to the furrowing of his brow.

“Master Paul Simon, Sir?” he tried again. A voice, heard only because of the sharpness of a prairie elf’s hearing (those big ears weren’t just for show) somewhere in the gardens let him know that Sir was, and that he was busy directing the other elves in their labours. Finally it occurred to him. He, Scurry (his chest puffed out a little in pride at the thought going through his head, but he made up for it by dropping the bucket onto his toes) was trusted. Perhaps, he even thought, perhaps this meant that he would finally be reinstated to the First Order of Janitors!

But to do that he would need to prove he could do his work properly this time. He looked up at the building in front of him. He cricked his neck right back, to see better. It was big enough when compared to the young masters and mistresses. It was huge when compared to a smaller than average prairie elf. But Master Paul Simon had told him to do this. Master Paul Simon had shown trust in Scurry. And, if the terrible dirtiness of the building was anything to go by, well, Scurry thought, it was well due for a cleaning. In truth, he was a little surprised – why hadn’t the elves been maintaining it properly? It was a mystery, but now that Master Paul Simon had seen their neglect, and Scurry was no longer a kitchen elf, all would be set to rights. Squaring his small shoulders, Scurry readied the pole, and looked down into the bucket.

A dribble of water, crested with two or three dismal bubbles moved sluggishly around the bottom rim.

Scurry’s bottom lip wobbled dangerously, and his eyes darted guiltily towards the thick greenery which hid him from the sight of the other elves… and Master Paul Simon. Wretchedly, he looked back down into the bucket again. The beginnings of a wail started to throb in his throat, but, he held it back, remembering that he was trusted. That Master Paul Simon knew he could do this (why else would the wonderful, kind and clever Master have given Scurry this task?). Scurry took a deep breath and clicked his fingers.

The pail filled to the brim with cool fresh water, the bubbles from before remaining on the surface a scant few seconds before popping one by one out of existence. The extra weight pushed the bucket down harder on his toes, but he didn’t remove them – he hadn’t got it right. His right ear started to twitch nervously, and he glanced again at the greenery before focusing on his task and clicking his fingers again.

Steam rose from within the wooden pail this time, but it still wasn’t right – there was no smell of soap being wafted out by the gently breeze that customarily circulated around the school. He tried a third time, and this time it worked… although there was a strong scent of lemon that nearly overpowered the soap. Scurry wondered about that – it hadn’t been his intention – but quickly decided that it didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Master Paul Simon’s orders could now be obeyed! He removed his foot from under the bucket, and dipped the mop-like end of the pole into the sudsy mix. Pulling it back out – with a little difficulty, sometimes it was hard being a small prairie elf, but that just meant that Scurry tried harder – he raised the end to the wall and started to scrubb.\n\n
39 Scurry Orders are the best things about being a Prairie Elf 0 Scurry 1 5


Dalila Bastet

April 28, 2005 8:39 PM

Greetings elf! by Dalila Bastet

Dalila was using her free time wisely, taking in all the school has to offer. Today, the adventure included wandering aimlessly aroung the gardenhs with Egyptian Mau, Nut, at her heels, collar tinkling with every step. It was strange how it followed her around sometimes.

The leafy hedges gave a pleasant coolness to the air. Dalila breathed in deeply, thrilled to be able inhale air and not the pollution and chemicals of Los Angeles. The silence was only broken by birds, the rustle of the wind against the leaves and...a squeaky voice?

It was coming from her right, just beyond a rather thick bunch of plants, near the wall of the school. Dalila quietly tip-toed towards the sound. Nut meowed at her master, and Dalila shushed her. She stepped gingerly around spiky plant and gasped.

There, standing right in fron t of her, was a house elf. And it was washing the wall with a mop that was entirely too big for its petite body. Nut hid behind Dalila's legs at the sight of the house elf and Dalila giggled out loud as the elf tried to balance the mop.

"Do you need any help there?" she asked him.\n\n
0 Dalila Bastet Greetings elf! 60 Dalila Bastet 0 5


Scurry

April 29, 2005 8:06 AM

OOC by Scurry

Missy Dalila? Why is you posting here? If you is paying attention, you would be noticing that this post is set on the day that you miss and the other young misses and sirs were being first at Sonora. It is being following on from earlier thread which Scurry was starring in.

And also Miss, Scurry is hoping that you is knowing the difference between a house elf and a prairie elf, which is what he is being. Prairie elves is having thicker leathery skin, and is having larger ears and and is also having longer fingers and... we is being less tubby around the middle, Miss.

Scurry is delighted to have had this opportunity to be helping the young Miss in learning her way around Sonora, and the peoples that are being living here.\n\n
39 Scurry OOC 0 Scurry 0 5


Dalila

April 30, 2005 12:24 PM

OOC: Woops! by Dalila

Sorry, Scurry, ignore that then. And I apologize for the house elf referense. Elves are a little new, and I can't tell the difference.\n\n
0 Dalila OOC: Woops! 0 Dalila 0 5