There aren’t many people wandering the Run today.
Not like a heatwave and a horsefly swarm do much to make going outside inviting. The few that are out gather in small groups on rickety porches or wherever there’s shade. They don’t do much, neither. ‘Cept watch her. None of them look the type for tiny toy horses; all scraggly beards and sun-dried skin and sunken, tired eyes that glare daggers through a city-slicker whenever she starts getting a little too close. They speak in hushed tones, but only when they’re sure she can’t hear them. Otherwise, they choose to stare and scowl.
The sun shines down a town that’s far too cold for summer.
The only remotely approachable looking figure’s the sheriff sat in the square, doodling in the sand. The ground around Redwood’s well’s been thoroughly covered in his handiwork. That being a bunch of shaky lines, with only a few barely creating unnameable shapes.
Chicken-scratch might be overselling it a little.
But that’s ok! He’s proud of it anyway.
He pauses only to check on his drawing tool. Big hands obscure what he’s using exactly - but it’s definitely not a branch. Too short for that, and not the right color. More of a faded, sun-bleached pink than brown. He flips it in his palms a couple times - and that’s when he spots her.
He doesn’t get up - but he does wave her a friendly how-do-you-do. He turns back to his ‘work’, and the tiny star pinned to his vest flashes, briefly, in the sunlight.
She really didn’t like this place. The environment was awful enough- bugs flying around, heat being almost unbearable, and the glares from the people outside didn’t help. After a certain point- she realized there was no reason to approach them. They clearly didn’t want her here- if they’d ordered these tiny horses- they sure didn’t want these tiny horses.
Maybe they just wanted to get away without paying...
Or maybe they just wanted to ruin her day by having her come out to the middle of nowhere carrying a crate of tiny horses only to eventually just leave. She was pretty sure that wasn’t the case- but still.
Once her arms started getting tired- a quick augment instantly brought them back to working order. She tossed the tub in her arms a few times- trying to bring a bit of feeling back, and continued on.
She chose not to look back as she continued on. She could sure as hell hear them- if not too clearly, though. Her epithet was based around sound after all- and rabbits did have good hearing. But if she registered anything said about her, she sure didn’t show it. She hadn’t really heard that much worse, but hey- retail customers sucks.
Upon reaching the town square- she didn’t really know how to react. A well. Huh. A weird guy. Bigger huh. She gave a brief glance down at the chicken scratch- mostly trying to understand anything written down. Not a thing. Whatever.
At least- with the wave, he seemed somewhat friendly. And the glistening star on his vest...
“Are you the sheriff?” Lorelai asks, plainly. “We got a delivery order from the Blyndeff Toy Emporium from here- and I’m looking for the person who ordered it. Do you happen to know who that person is?”
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