Why am i always drenched

His expression remains unchanging as she ignores his question. Perhaps the white of her eyes is true in that she is blind. Yet, if she were blind... how would she know colors? Gilgamesh tilts his head slightly as the fox rushes over and chastises her. Only a brow lifts in a minor question. Rude? Hm, he supposed that some might find it in poor taste to question the color of one's coat. Yet, unlike his wife, Gilgamesh could care less about the colors of his coat. It was not the appearance of one's body that proved their worth.

Patiently he waited for their words to cease. A slight nod of his head in understanding with an added grunt as an approved note that he understood. Glancing around the watery plains himself, he took a moment before replying. "The colors I am are grey, black, white, brown, with blue crystals and yellow eyes," he adds, his words simple and straightforward. For now, he would keep his fangs hidden, tucked away in the upper part of his mouth. No need to scare the poor girl and her companion just yet.

"How does your sight work for you?" Gilgamesh questions as he shifts his weight to a more comfortable stance. His paws squeal in the watery mud beneath him as he waits for a response. If she were allowed to ask forward questions, then so should he.