In my twenty-two years of living, I've had a fair share of weird experiences, most of which I'd possibly just need to ponder over a lovely slab of medium rare lamb chop, mashed potatoes on the side. Moreso, I've met a handful of weird people, some of which the one who created me could simply remove those memories, and a few of which I question to this day. As a wolf, I think it's fairly usual to see things out of the usual.
She's exactly that; out of the usual. A human being I find myself questioning a bit too often, ideally when I am not around her, though just about a handful more when I am with her. She's... weird. I mean this in a... polite way. She isn't like the other humans; she has a weird way of thinking, her actions are questionable, her mental state too. Though that far from stops the irking desire in me to be around her, a little too much for my mate's liking. It's hard to explain it to her, so I don't bother trying.
Gertrude's what I'd call, a special case.
Like now; I've seen a handful of idiots who have thought, with their walnut sized brains, that they could sleekly get away with infidality. They do it confidently, and find even more confidence assuming they would never get caught. I've seen a handful of whores galavant from male to male, perhaps eager to stack the amount of guys they drop on their knees for, as tough competing with each other. I've seen a handful appear as though they are, when they aren't, but fail to defend their case. Amongst the stats of this, I've seen many people react, over react and perhaps under react to such situations. However, Goddess be my witness, I have never seen one act so... weird.
She doesn't scream or cry. She doesn't bang her head against the windows in anger, like I've seen many shewolves do. Instead, she seems to take just one simple breathe in, peer towards me with the most nonchalant look she's pulled off thus far, sniffs with a tiny shrug, then utters that she wants to look for her supposed best friend, to dance.
To dance. Dance. Surely there should be another meaning unfamiliar to me regarding this world, because I fail to understand even the smallest bit, how she decides to go dance after finding out her boyfriend seems to be cheating on her. Gertrude is, now, what I'd call, naive. Perhaps she couldn't tell, but I'm sure the signs were there.
I must let out a chuckle, tilting my head as confusion overcomes me. "Dance?" I fold my arms over my chest, shaking my head in what I assume is disbelief. "Strange. I don't suggest you waste your time going to dance. Perhaps your idea is to make him jealous, make him see you. You should just go up to him and confront him, head on."
She ponders on it; her eyes shift back through the window. She nibbles at the corner of her bottom lip and instinctively, I fist my hands at it. "I should just confront him. Urgh, but you know how men are! They will deny it all even if the evidence is in front of them. I know he's going to do the same."
"So what if he denies it? You're not going to negotiate a plan with him, you're going to break up with him, simple as that." I shrug,, then squint in wonder as she glances back up at me. "I don't assume you're one to stay with a cheater, no?
"No."
That's her answer, though there's hesitation in it. Almost like she felt forced to give that answer, like indeed, she is the type to stay with somebody comfortable cheating on their partner. Her eyes quickly move away, followed by her lips pouting, and she shakes her head again before repeating her answer.
It's funny, really. Easily considered as a stubborn woman, I'd say, though somehow, she stands as being one of the most easiest manipulated women I've come across. Is she easy to manipulate?
Now, I couldn't manipulate her, I like her too much to try doing that, even when a major aspect of her begs me to do just that. She's confusing, in a sense that there's something about her I find myself needing to know.
