As the young adorable little Don pressed against his workshop door, he involuntarily winced at the beating sun. His workshop had lightning, but only a couple of windows and even then Don paid no mind to the faint beams. He primarily used them to tell the time of day, the only light he needed was a tiny desk lamp which bent to his will and refrained from harming his eyes. The natural rays of illumination however showed no mercy and the only thing protecting him was his layer of clothing. It was an orange and maroon baseball jersey that covered up a black tight under armor. His pants were simple black cargo shorts.
He then stretched and yawned, twisting his tiny youthful frame,, but careful not to contort his torso too much. For today his younger brother, Tamakaze, was clinging onto his back. The puppet was dressed in a black cloak, with solid white stripe down the center. Its green hair was artificial, but yet it looked and even felt so real. The puppets hair even had its own scent. From the back it may even be mistaken for a human and that made it all worth it. It had taken Don days to come across such a quality mane. And with Tamekaze being like a little brother to him, why wouldn't he take the time to find the best possible look for him.
Patting at his pockets, he heard a few coins jingle and a blunt object nudge his leg. Pocket change from his last customer and his other puppet currently residing within a scroll, Orochi. He never left his home without his creations, like a mother, he was always guarding and keeping his babies close to him.
What to eat, what to eat? As he was standing, still right outside of his workshop, he overheard to civilians squabbling about restaurants. He couldn't help but feed his ears and mind and gobble up the information. Steaming Clam? Don had never eaten there before, or even heard of the place. He didn't get out much, so he wasn't surprised, but he was usually aware of new franchises springing up. He wondered how long he had been working on his new piece. He knew he was focused, but still to be that sucked into one puppet. He yawned one last time, before tapping his rubber cleats against the dusty road. Hmm how to get in the crowd? He was still roadside and was trying to phase into the stream of bustling citizens, but his small physique wouldn't allow. Standing at 4`11 was never that beneficial in these scenarios and even if he did manage to enter the ever flowing beast, he would have difficulties exiting. Another breath of air let his lips, this time a weary sigh.
What to do, what to do? He whispered to himself, as soft and quiet as butterfly kisses. He could wait for the congested streets to die down, but being as spoiled as he was, he wanted his meal now. Now slightly annoyed with the scene, though having been outside for only roughly two minutes, Don angrily mushed his hands onto his fore head. Shielding his eyes from the sun, who was pestering him with no breaks. His adorable childish face balled up, Don was really fed up with the recent turn of events.
He then stretched and yawned, twisting his tiny youthful frame,, but careful not to contort his torso too much. For today his younger brother, Tamakaze, was clinging onto his back. The puppet was dressed in a black cloak, with solid white stripe down the center. Its green hair was artificial, but yet it looked and even felt so real. The puppets hair even had its own scent. From the back it may even be mistaken for a human and that made it all worth it. It had taken Don days to come across such a quality mane. And with Tamekaze being like a little brother to him, why wouldn't he take the time to find the best possible look for him.
Patting at his pockets, he heard a few coins jingle and a blunt object nudge his leg. Pocket change from his last customer and his other puppet currently residing within a scroll, Orochi. He never left his home without his creations, like a mother, he was always guarding and keeping his babies close to him.
What to eat, what to eat? As he was standing, still right outside of his workshop, he overheard to civilians squabbling about restaurants. He couldn't help but feed his ears and mind and gobble up the information. Steaming Clam? Don had never eaten there before, or even heard of the place. He didn't get out much, so he wasn't surprised, but he was usually aware of new franchises springing up. He wondered how long he had been working on his new piece. He knew he was focused, but still to be that sucked into one puppet. He yawned one last time, before tapping his rubber cleats against the dusty road. Hmm how to get in the crowd? He was still roadside and was trying to phase into the stream of bustling citizens, but his small physique wouldn't allow. Standing at 4`11 was never that beneficial in these scenarios and even if he did manage to enter the ever flowing beast, he would have difficulties exiting. Another breath of air let his lips, this time a weary sigh.
What to do, what to do? He whispered to himself, as soft and quiet as butterfly kisses. He could wait for the congested streets to die down, but being as spoiled as he was, he wanted his meal now. Now slightly annoyed with the scene, though having been outside for only roughly two minutes, Don angrily mushed his hands onto his fore head. Shielding his eyes from the sun, who was pestering him with no breaks. His adorable childish face balled up, Don was really fed up with the recent turn of events.