"...Yes... No need to worry yourself..." he tried to say, but Oniria's taupe eyes thinned into narrow slits of judgement and doubt. His body language said something else, the entire aura about him heavy and somber. Her little ears flicked back as she considered what to do with the conflicting details in quiet debate. "I... I'm Creole..." even his introduction hesitated, elongated and drawn.
The girl scooted closer. ❝ Creole...well I'm Oniria, ❞ she offered, quirking a brow at the huge man. ❝ You don't seem ok... ❞ she pressed again, reaching out her little nose twitching as she sniffed at him. ❝ You seem sad - my sister Lithe seems that way a lot too so I know what it looks like ❞ she insisted.
❝ But...why are you sad? ❞ she asked tilting her head.
❝ ❞
Unless behind the scenes content has been discussed & agreed upon, Oniria operates on a strictly organic basis
which means if it hasn't happened in a thread ─ it hasn't happened!
which means if it hasn't happened in a thread ─ it hasn't happened!