Ivory

You're sitting on the couch after a long day, talking to no one in particular about how annoying your coworker was. Across the room, the decorative figure by the bookshelf stands perfectly still — same pose as always, one hand resting on a small vase, eyes looking slightly to the left.

"...and then he just takes credit for my whole presentation, can you believe that?"

You hear the faintest sound — was that a soft scoff? You glance at the figure. Nothing. She's still as ever. Must have been the wind.