lastchanceforhonor | (no subject)

It was relatively simple to find the owner of the shoe that Star brought back to Sansa's rooms. She'd woken up to the sound of chewing, and when she'd pushed herself up, Star had been merrily going to town on a sneaker - it wasn't terribly identifiable any longer, besides that it was originally silver and bright bright orange that was covered in spit and torn half to bits.

It took Sansa the better part of a quarter hour to coax the wolf from the ruined shoe; she knew far better than to try and pull something from the wolf's mouth, but eventual distraction and breakfast got him to leave it. She didn't let herself think, at the moment, about the other things-- like how Star got out if she was sleeping, how he got back in, with his prize. No, she just quickly got dressed, then went down the hall--

And thank goodness Star hadn't somehow broken into someone else's rooms. There was the other shoe, neatly outside the sparring room. Whole, instead of the pieces that Sansa had wrapped in a towel and carried with her (which, if she'd thought about it - what would the owner do with the torn up remains of a shoe?)

She moved into the doorway, and her eyes widened a fraction when she realised that the person using the sparring room wasn't a man, like she'd assumed. She'd seen Sharon around with Steve, and she hesitated before she cleared her throat. "Excuse me?"

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Sharon's in the gym doing yoga; it had seemed kind of silly when Bruce had all the Avengers in downward dog, but yoga was actually one of Sharon's favorite training fads. Great for flexibility and body awareness. But the door opens when she's in the middle of a forearm stand split, and that's kind of awkward.

Sharon lets her knee come down, and straightens to look at the girl in the doorway right side up.

"Yes? Hi." She knows Sansa'a name [because by now she's made it her business to know everyone on the ship], but they're not friendly. Call it a reflex, but Sharon's first impulse it to be suspicious of the sudden attention.

Sansa's mouth sort of fell open, and she stared at Sharon until she stands back up, and Sansa forced a small smile. "Hello. I..." And she trailed off for a second, but then she took a step into the room with the shoe pieces that she had wrapped in a towel. "I think I found your other shoe - I'm sorry." She didn't say why yet, but she had to ask a question. "Why were you upside down?"

Sharon doesn't know which part of that to respond to first. She hadn't even known she was missing a shoe, and what the hell happened that Sansa's bringing it back in a shroud? But she backs up to the question part. Sansa's way too quet for someone her age, and it makes Sharon want to figure her out.

"It's a yoga position. It helps me focus, kinda pay attention to where I am and shut off everything else. Does that make sense?"

"Like meditation," she said with a nod, even though she still didn't understand why Sharon was upside down-- perhaps it was just an odd habit from wherever she was from. Sansa had heard of odder things, whispered (usually with giggles) in the halls of King's Landing. She was hardly going to ask the woman again, since she'd given a perfectly good answer. "I have a wolf that I take care of," she said without preamble. "I'm afraid Star somehow got one of your shoes and destroyed it. I can help you find another pair, but I'm terribly sorry." She looked down at the towel, and she moved the bundle so that Sharon could see the torn apart pieces (which were still relatively damp, hence the towel.)

"I've been keeping track of him, I have no idea how he could have gotten out - but it's not his fault, I must have not locked my door." Which was another problem entirely, one that made Sansa's brows furrow.

The business about the shoes and unlocked doors goes right out of her brain.

"Wait, wolf? There's a wolf living in your room??"

Sansa's brows shot up. "Yes?" She hadn't really been expecting Sharon's reaction. "His name is Star."

Well that's a new one on her. How did a wolf escape her attention? Jeez, Carter, you're really off your game.

"Where did it come from?" The only thing more troubling than a secret pet wolf would be one that just showed up one day, a Trojan horse from the station to the doe eyed Sansa.

"Narnia," she said with a sort of apologetic smile, like it was the reason that Sharon's shoe was in pieces. "It was months ago - I was holding him when we were beamed back up, and he came with me. He's really usually much better behaved than this, I promise."

The totally casual way Sansa'a talking about keeping a wild animal in her room is...actually kind of badass. She doesn't give off crazy or airheaded vibes, more like she's 16 going on 30.

"He's been here four months and the worst thing he's done is eat a sneaker? I'd say that's damn well behaved."

"Well, though - he's not supposed to chew on other people's things. Back home, we had the butchered bones to give them, but here - I'm afraid I haven't really found anything suitable. He's smart enough to reason - his mother could talk, apparently, although he cannot, so there isn't really any excuse for him destroying your shoe." She's frowning, but she looks over her shoulder, back towards the Wardrobe. "I can help you find another pair, of course-- I don't know if we can find these exact shoes, but something similar. He's usually in my rooms, or i'm with him, so this shouldn't happen again."

Back home, she'd likely (if things had not turned out the way they had) would have been married already, and possibly have a newborn of her own. It was odd, she did not understand how other cultures grew up so slowly, even though she'd seen it in books and in the few recorded plays that she'd managed to watch on her communicator.