The chocolates had been behind her back. She had the perfect opportunity. She could have given them to the person she'd been wanting to, but the bravery she had fell away. Dorothy couldn't do it at all.
Wearily, she takes a seat on a bail of hay and stares down at the box on her knees, having removed the tag for whom it was for. With a sigh, she drums her fingers over it, Toto laying beside her, although uncertain as to what is the matter.
It's too bad, really, that these won't make it to their intended target. They were expensive, and they are supposed to be delicious. So she sighs, looking away from the box at the dog at her side and pats his head. "I ought to give these to someone else, so at least they can be enjoyed," she tells the little dog.
Wearily, she takes a seat on a bail of hay and stares down at the box on her knees, having removed the tag for whom it was for. With a sigh, she drums her fingers over it, Toto laying beside her, although uncertain as to what is the matter.
It's too bad, really, that these won't make it to their intended target. They were expensive, and they are supposed to be delicious. So she sighs, looking away from the box at the dog at her side and pats his head. "I ought to give these to someone else, so at least they can be enjoyed," she tells the little dog.
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