Broken Boulder but i have high unicorn tolerance

sight and sound are still in the works, unable to depend on them for anything in particular. everything is blurry. light and darkness and shapes and some differences—delight certainly wasn’t queenie—and she watches him settle on the ground (sorta) and when he scoops her up and moves her, offers only a single wail of protest. it’s short lived and she’s distracted by a few licks across the top of her head. her face wrinkles in disgust. ugh, gross.
 
her head turns to search for the other bumbling idiots she shares a den with but delight’s leg is in the way and she lifts her wobbly head, turning a little to get out of the caresses of a foreign tongue to make a great escape.