Moonsong Glacier In Berlin

towhee jr's lip reading isn't good enough to determine what he is slurring. even if it was, there was a good chance she'd have not been able to make out but a few words anyway.

though jr is immediately appeased by the lowering posture, the truth is, she finds it hard to focus upon the movements of his lips slurring his words when his stance is wobbly.

her first instinct, assuming he is unwell, is to recoil back: not interested in catching whatever ails him. her stronger instinct tells her to push forward, to reinstate that she is in charge here, for the moment.

she scents at the air, hoping that it might tell her something about his jerky movements. there is a sour smell to the air and unsure of what it is, jr is weary; gaze hawk-sharp and countenance her natural prickliness towards strangers.