ofcasketgirls
Annette stared forlornly at her racket. Though she’d mastered many things, tennis still seemed to allude her. The boy across from her looked at her like she was insane as she started to giggle at the broken equipment. It wasn’t even really that funny, at least not to normal people. But to her it was suddenly hilarious, this poor broken thing, so unexpectedly fragile, much like the humans surrounding her. Nothing but bones covered in soft things easily ripped apart to find the prize inside.
Shaking off the thoughts, she strolled casually off the court to find Valerie, twirling the broken racket in her hand without much thought. Upon finding the woman, Annette smiled brightly. Valerie was the only person she shared that smile with, the only person she trusted enough to see her happiness.
Holding up the equipment, she pouts ever so slightly. “Eet is not my fault ze racket was so very weak.” Her accent a little heavier than usual, something that happened when she was hungry. Though with all of the new rules Marcel had laid down, she ate less often just to be safe. Not trusting herself to even feed within city limits. “Please tell me if zere is a sport better suited for the supernatural.”