Pick your poison.

Her frown deepened as Fir continued, her lip even pulling back as disgust really took over. Whatever was going on in this story, Noelie couldn't help but thank the Ancestors that she didn't have to actually enter that dwelling. Even imagining the smell made her stomach churn. The Featherlashes really were weirdos, who for some reason kept spare excrement around inside of their abode, and she was pretty sure that not even the Ancestors would be able to find a reason for that one.

"Ew!! No, I want to get out of there. I don't want to watch him do his business. I'm going to go back downstairs and wait." Etoile's honor was at stake here, and Noelie couldn't just allow her poor, precious eyes to witness something so vile. Just in case, she gave the dice a good roll, praying that if nothing else, she'd be able to save her cousin from this mess she had gotten her in, and when she lifted her paws she saw it, 20 individual pockmarks.

Word Count: 172