The Sentinels and the malaprops make me wanna fucking scream

A rogue smile escaped him at among other things and it was somehow satisfying when so many things as of late had been less than satisfactory. Maybe it was reassurance that he needed more than distraction, but he would never admit to it. Instead a throaty hum was his only response as their conversation progressed, and he moved to usher them along in search of better scenes. It also gave him the appropriate time to consider a response to her question, because every knavish creature had to pluck worthwhile words from thin air.

Nothing too extravagant though, just enough to whet an appetite.

”I'm sure you've crossed my mind a time or two, certainly when there is little else to worry myself with,” he said as he passed her, this time a teasing smile to flit across his muzzle—she could take the meaning of worry how she wanted. ”I'd ask the same of you, but clearly you have as you came looking for me,” and how easily things went to suggestive content, he was willing to wager she thought about him more than he had her.

”You seem to have been doing well for yourself, though.” No worse for wear really, not all raw bones over frame and a mockery of her summery self. ”I'm surprised you've come all this way on your own even, I'd half-expected you to have some knight in shining armor at your heels.” But perhaps things were truly that bad at her pack, or she had simply not settled. Or maybe, she had just opted to sneak away from beneath a watchful eye. Probably not the latter, but it was entertainment nonetheless.

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