whatever the opposite of strong and silent is

Midas offered another relaxed, confident smile as they walked. His companion seemed to have gone for the not dignifying him with a response route, which honestly, he respected. Couldn't blame a guy for shooting his shot. He'd done his best, we'll get 'em next time boys. Right, or he could keep... perhaps gently trying. Maybe she'd missed the signal. His little pink companion needed to focus on being a good guide, she'd taken responsibility for him after all.

Her shrug was enough to confirm his suspicions. He was far enough away that he could be safe. None of his old ghosts could follow him here, they didn't even know the names. At least this... apparently isolated family pack didn't. Had he dropped into a cult accidentally? Did she need rescuing? Right, calm down there cowboy. It didn't matter. There was a comforting sort of euphoria that was beginning to drift over his system... or was Midas just overtired?

"I like your treehouse." Midas wagged his tail as they crossed into the small space. It was tidy, cozy. The quarters were tight, and maybe... he'd take that as an excuse. Midas stretched out on the space that looked like it didn't belong to the lady who'd built it, offering a grumble. "I've always known how to swim, but I wasn't expecting it to take that much outta me." He admitted, tone candid. Conversational. If she was going to be strong and silent, he was happy to fill the space.