hop-timist

Mochi might have taken after her mother in appearance, but she had inherited her father's habit of frowning. Lifting her chin ever so slightly in defiance and narrowing her eyes, the girl barely managed to keep a wrinkle from her snout, the expression bordering on a sneer. She exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes as she grabbed another fur and dragged it into the elements, insects scattering. She couldn't keep the revulsion from her face at their flight. "Nande?" She asked flatly, knowing it was far from a tone that one should take with their father, but why should Mochi care?

Still, she spread her front paws ever so slightly for balance as she moved to grab the blanket. She prepared to swing it over the frame with the others, only keeping half an eye on her dark pelted progenitor as she worked.

"speech"