Russian Vodka
Supernova
- Joined
- Jan 19, 2009
Heading through the corridor, the huffed breathing of the tall female bovine could be heard in almost all the compartments in the department. She was carrying a stack of files, heading for the booth by the end of her row where the responsible worker sat. She wasn't exactly in a hurry, but the quicker she got them handed in, the quicker she could get down to the cafeteria for her lunch break.
She was one of the few genetically modified workers in the building, spread out evenly on the floors there were anthros of different kinds and they usually sat and talked together at lunch breaks. She was the bovine there, tall, standing at almost 5' 6", she could look down at the other females with her horns almost in a menacing way without trying. But she rarely used that treat unless someone had started bullying the anthros.
"Sir!" She said, letting him know she, Kimberly, was there with the files. "Before time, sir." She gave a courteous bow, her white, button-up shirt hitching up a bit against the back of her navy blue, knee-length skirt as she smiled for herself. She knew it was lunch time then as she left the files next to the man there, turning and walking down the isles, her three inch, work heels clicking lightly against the floor with each step, causing so many to wonder just how the bovine managed to show off grace and style without actually appearing too clumsy. The secret was in her genes.