Dreams of becoming a small, springy gazelle. Since she is neither springy nor a gazelle, she settles for walking on two legs and resembling a human.
Even Hawkeye could be caught off guard, and the men moving in too late, even five seconds too long, too far away.
"You could have roped in the typing pool instead, they moon over the Colonel all the time."
More than once she thought she half-saw a face in the leaves, formed by a trick of light and shadow, and her steps grew languid and slow.
In a blur of red and flying braid, Ed is on his knees before her.
The audience fades away; the chatters dies, their twin breaths are the soft herald of thunder to come.
The kid is easily recognizable by his golden hair and eyes, his automail arm and leg, and the obvious chip on the shoulder.
If Ed had his way, his allowance (and all of Roy's salary) would be spent entirely on the most expensive brand of dog food to have ever existed.
"Hey! She did it blindfolded! No one else could do that! And better her than that old hag!"
If she cries, he may have to kill her. He can't stand that sound any longer.