Lion Head Mesa i wanna take the hand inside you

Eset indulges her, allows her to flutter to and fro with nods of her head and gentle encouragement. All the while, Inji follows along — picking up alongside her by giving a pelt that makes a bed a good shake, followed by a smoothing press with a paw.
Thank you again, Eset, she urges, giving a soft hum. Safety that could be found in others of her kind would never not be appreciated. I'm here for you too, if you ever need an ear, like I said. It's a hard life sometimes, right?
Their idle conversation comes to a close as Inji reaches up to dab at her forehead with the back of her wrist. A question is asked amidst the pleasant silence.
A name.
She freezes.
A frown finds her features, ghostly — why did she want to know? — before she lowers her voice to a whisper. Naberius, the neb, she gives a rapid blink. h-he didn't, hurt me, or anything, I promise. He was nice. Why do you... ask?