Yet another of the guards carried in an Island Wocky, clearly against her will. The guard dropped her on the floor rather unceremoniously (if understandably, considering how hard she was fighting), slammed the door, and left.
“She’s coming back!” the Wocky yelled after the guard. “Her account is going to turn 4 months old next week, and she’s going to come back and ask about me! She’s going to adopt me! You’ll feel really stupid then.”
The last part of her statement had a pronounced note of desperation.
She sighed and glanced around the room. She made an attempt at a cheerful smile. “I’m Flora, and I’m really not normally this crazy. Maybe I’ve been in and out of the pound too many times. What’s your story?”