[ it's been a while since he's run into a cat that wears his aggression with such candor. there's something about Leaks' energy that makes Bardo nervous— the same deep-seated anxiety he carries in his gut, in the cursemark on his arm— but the feeling dissipates with the skin-on-skin contact.
he knows the grip is supposed to be a threat. the intent is written on the other Ribika's face, in the way he frowns and flicks his coal-black ears.
but.
the moonlacing takes the edge off of things, and he finds himself relaxing enough that his expression eases into a thin smile. ]
...Is this supposed to be your worst? [ a dumb provocation, but the foolhardy comment lilts with easy humor. ] If so, I'm not worried.
[ with that said, he reaches with his free hand to rub at the base of one of Leaks' ears. a gesture of goodwill, in a way. ]
no subject
he knows the grip is supposed to be a threat. the intent is written on the other Ribika's face, in the way he frowns and flicks his coal-black ears.
but.
the moonlacing takes the edge off of things, and he finds himself relaxing enough that his expression eases into a thin smile. ]
...Is this supposed to be your worst? [ a dumb provocation, but the foolhardy comment lilts with easy humor. ] If so, I'm not worried.
[ with that said, he reaches with his free hand to rub at the base of one of Leaks' ears. a gesture of goodwill, in a way. ]