<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=15435.msg615783#msg615783">Quote from: Sherona on May 21, 2008, 03:54:08 pm</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Sam gives a wry grin toward the young clown as she passes out of her tent with a box of goods. "Come Pickle...Put down that concoction and follow me. I need the use of your smaller hands putting away some of these items." Sam feels a certain maternal feeling toward the clown, one that does not often over take the carnival fortune-seeker. <br/><br/>Her blue skirts whisper as she walks, expecting Picklepuss to fall into step. "Are you hungry? I hope you did not skip dinner again."<br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>Always barefoot (the girl seemingly owned just one item of clothing, a striped sweater much too large for someone her size), Picklepuss sauntered behind Sam and pitched in to help. Nothing was ever that simple with her though. She flipped a bottle up through the air only to catch it behind her back, rolled a crystal ball down along the length of her arm and bounced it into her other hand, balanced an assortment of decorations while swaying back and forth... one could have easily sold extra tickets to the impromptu performance!<br/><br/>"Dinner?" the little juggler asked as if she were trying to learn a foreign language, but after recognition hit her the only thing that hid the blush spreading across Picklepuss' face was white greasepaint. Sam wouldn't need psychic powers to divine the answer.