 ∞ 17 | RP entrepreneur | defies gravity | Miss George is flawless | blanket burrito lyfe
Okay. Rocks.
This...was the right way to go, right? It probably would have been a good idea for him to ask the girl advertising at his NEW HOUSE TABLE (!!) where to go. But his deduction skills of the word "entrance" led him this way. The way he had entered this place. Which, luckily for the oldest Bronwyn boy, was definitely the right place. A ROCK ADOPTION. Oh, Gandalf! Oh, Dalek! His eyes widened, and he reached for his notebook -- but alas, the realisation that it was missing hit him again and his shoulders slumped a little.
Later. He would find it later.
Finding a spot between some people, Rooney squeezed his little eleven year old body into a gap and peeeeeeeered at the table.
"'ello? I'd --uh -- rock? Rooney? -- That's my name."
Rock now?
These were people that he hadn't spoken to at all, and he didn't have his notebook to scribble his observations about them and channel his anxiety into there. This was a problem.
B R E A T H EEEEEE.
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