Barrow Fields i would ask, almost insist, on treating you kind and fair

try as he might to recede into his ruffed neckline the way a turtle may be inclined to rapidly withdraw into its ironclad shell, tachyon could do no such thing and instead was left woefully in the open. he watched the drool with a horrified expression as it swung back and forth, his ears drawn forward in an anxious expression of horrified indignity -- until at last the string of sputum encountered the end of its travails and landed with a resounding slatter down the stop of his muzzle.

tachyon's eyes crossed as he peered at the offensive gout of saliva, his brow hiked in stifled revulsion. his whine reappeared with a renewed vigor -- "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

a shrill thing, continuing ---

until it was abruptly stopped -- tachyon's gaze crossed once more as the drool shifted, buoyed by gravity as it pulled down his muzzle towards his eyes. "EEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE." his whine a protest growing louder the further the drool descended until at last he sought to halt the watery progress by vigorously rubbing his head on whichever of lusca's front limbs was closest and readily available.