Permafrost Hollows Fight or flight

His eyes did not wander from hers, did not investigate the curiosities and stories written on her skin with a pencil made of teeth, and the berserker feels a tad of respect for the southerner. 

It appeared the waif was incorrect, he did seem to understand the emotion behind her words. She could only watch warily as he stepped forward - ears flattened with disquiet as he drew near. Her eyes, which had warmed some, hardened as he approached - not unlike two pale stones.

She skitters away from his touch, soft whines falling from her throat. No one has touched her since them. It's too new, too confusing, too sudden for this strange man to be touching her and she bristles - half hunched protectively over herself and her lips twitching as if she might snarl at him. 

Given that he backs up and gives Tapeesa her space - the girl would calm, watching him with sad silver eyes. She offered him two words he wouldn't understand.

"Please. Don't."