FOLLOW ME EVERYTHING IS ALRIGHT

*Themisto* · 02-25-2014, 07:11 PM

His head would lift to align with his spine as Twig began to speak, caramel audits flicked foward atop his skull. Lips quivered as they threatened to sag into a frown. Fun was... abnormal to her? But how? His entire life revolved around happiness, fun, and a care free life style- he couldn't imagine it any different. So how could she? How could she not have spent her days lazily hanging about without a care? He would deflect the whim to frown, though his lips would fall to a more serious expression before speaking. "Oh... Well, I'm glad I managed to make you laugh then." He would counter with a chuckle, a shy smile played across his lips as his cheeks began to burn. He must have been unique if he could make her laugh and smile so easily, which was a positive thing to him. Surely if they spent enough time together he could teach her the fundamentals of fun, and they could go on spectacular adventures together, paw in paw, ready to take on the world.

Suddenly her royal gaze would fall distant, and his eyes would eagerly follow hers, awaiting the moment they connected again. Silently he would stand, and as her breakdown progressed his audits would fold. Her knees would buckle, and she would come crashing toward the earth, tears surging down her cheeks. The man would come forward, closing the short distance between them as he gingerly began to lap at her tears, his body lowering so that he could lay beside her. He wished to wipe the tears away from her cheeks, whilst nuzzling into her gently with his nose. He wanted to comfort her the best he could without overstepping their strict boundaries. After all, they were still strangers. She would speak, and Themisto would listen, toungue lapping tenderly at her facial features as he attempted to calm her down.

She would give him a new name, and he quickly question why she had lied to him. At first she had been Twig, now she was Ashley? He was confused, and began to doubt her true alignment. She seemed so sweet, but was she really who she said she was? What if she were some assassin, mass murderer, or worse, some crazy harlot? Looks could be deceiving, but despite his newly formed doubts he would continue to soothe her. He would not jump to such extreme accusations just yet- at least, not out loud. She would go on, and the ordeal would begin to make some sense- she had been brutally attacked, and had suffered long term trauma because of it. He would nod silently, an indication that he was listening to everything she was saying. "I'm sorry... Please don't cry..." He would murmur, as he honestly didn't know what else to say. Her head would fall to her paws, and he would whine softly whilst nudging her neck gently. All he could really do was comfort her until she calmed down.

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