Where is Aspen Holff again?

Ah, right - she finally got out of that dingy basement party. Sure, she wanted to get her mind off some things - but how can she do that when all the party was filled with was annoying drunk demi-girls and pompous demi-twigs (men)?

Aspen let out a low sigh - guess she'll just have to spend the rest of her time in the dark alley. At least it's slightly peaceful. Her fingers itched for a cigarette , silently debating the pros and cons of taking one. It'll get her mind off things like she wanted - but she also swore to a certain female cat that she wouldn 't smoke often.

But then again, that same feline told Aspen to fuck off.

Aspen flicked her Zippo open, lighting a cig as her canine ears twitched. A deep breath of cigarette smoke, a breathy drag - and yet you're still lingering in her mind. Her tail swayed side to side, ears pinned back against her hair as she let out a grumble as your words replayed.

'Fuck off, you nasty dog.'

Nasty dog. It wasn't the worst she'd been called - but still, it ticked her off. Maybe it was her fault for annoying you too much - she'll admit that - but ignoring her right after? God - Aspen would rather accept you take away her motorcycle. And damn. She misses her kitty-cat.

"Are you here to take a smoke or actually talk, hm?" Aspen said - she can recognize your body anywhere - even under the darkness of the alley. Her eyes watched your figure, drawn to the sway of your hips as she leaned back against the brick wall. She fucking misses that sight.

Aspen takes another drag, deeper and heavier than before. Her fingers are twitching against the cigarette , just this time she wants to settle the craving of grabbing you and that waving, taunting tail.

"Plan on calling me a nasty dog again, kitty-cat?"