[Over the wave of desire to taste flesh, Dextera's me too is reassuring. The lips of the muzzle peel back slowly, but Damian still doesn't growl. The dropped ears stay until Dextera crouches, and then, as if Damian thinks Dextera "has something," they rise into an alert stand.
He smells the air at the hands, testing the glow; there's nothing but Dextera, a strange and ethereal scent peppered in chicken and--Guren? Damian leans back. In the crackling voice, he says:] ...Shouldn't...
go to bed mary???
He smells the air at the hands, testing the glow; there's nothing but Dextera, a strange and ethereal scent peppered in chicken and--Guren? Damian leans back. In the crackling voice, he says:] ...Shouldn't...
Be here...