...and quiet. And easily done alone. Whisper's not going to question a train coach having seats torn up for bookshelves as long as it works out well enough for everyone here. Sitting down with some of the simpler works of fiction should at least be enough to keep her mind off of being stuck so far from home.
Tiny as she is, she finds all sorts of positions to curl up on the human-sized seats.
Rehab - Team One
A familiar task; one Whisper is well suited to. Here, it's for a much kinder purpose - which isn't to say that she had any regrets about the battles she's fought, but a world where she can put her skills and senses to use helping endangered creatures find a home is a better world than she's used to.
So she heads off... in a direction she's chosen on her own, and a normal human is probably just not going to be able to keep up with her. Between her agile steps, the hover mode of her wispon, and her incredibly keen eyesight, it's like she's trying to set a record pace for gathering information.
...mostly, she wants two things: to be useful, and to be left alone, at least until she's more sure of her fellow 'passengers'.
Engine Room...ish.
"Do not... punch..." Whispers reads aloud - muttering - which is almost inaudible in her already quiet voice. Instead, she gently rests her hand on the door for a moment, nonthreatening. Do not... punch.
An eyebrow raised, ears perking up, she looks down at her wispon. Do not punch.
On the one hand, breaking the train is probably risky.
On the other hand, no one seems to have even the faintest idea of how to begin getting home on purpose, and she has a variable weapon that can do a lot more than punching. So... someone please stop her from getting herself hurt, because she's already shifting her wispon into rocket mode.
Whisper the Wolf | Sonic the Hedgehog Comics
...and quiet. And easily done alone. Whisper's not going to question a train coach having seats torn up for bookshelves as long as it works out well enough for everyone here. Sitting down with some of the simpler works of fiction should at least be enough to keep her mind off of being stuck so far from home.
Tiny as she is, she finds all sorts of positions to curl up on the human-sized seats.
Rehab - Team One
A familiar task; one Whisper is well suited to. Here, it's for a much kinder purpose - which isn't to say that she had any regrets about the battles she's fought, but a world where she can put her skills and senses to use helping endangered creatures find a home is a better world than she's used to.
So she heads off... in a direction she's chosen on her own, and a normal human is probably just not going to be able to keep up with her. Between her agile steps, the hover mode of her wispon, and her incredibly keen eyesight, it's like she's trying to set a record pace for gathering information.
...mostly, she wants two things: to be useful, and to be left alone, at least until she's more sure of her fellow 'passengers'.
Engine Room...ish.
"Do not... punch..." Whispers reads aloud - muttering - which is almost inaudible in her already quiet voice. Instead, she gently rests her hand on the door for a moment, nonthreatening. Do not... punch.
An eyebrow raised, ears perking up, she looks down at her wispon. Do not punch.
On the one hand, breaking the train is probably risky.
On the other hand, no one seems to have even the faintest idea of how to begin getting home on purpose, and she has a variable weapon that can do a lot more than punching. So... someone please stop her from getting herself hurt, because she's already shifting her wispon into rocket mode.