10-21-2018, 12:55 AM
Prone to whimsy, there is a moment where her body sways akin to a flower in a breeze and much like it- she bends and walks to balance herself. To her credit, she can feel the stare, the way he watches and how he seems content to stand while she moves and traverses small distances between himself and the foliage. Soft purple and faintly pink she stares at the groupings of clover among the baby’s breath, onion grass, periwinkle, and moss: her small nose brushing it as she sniffs and vocalizes a sort of huff. Familiar to it, the lips and soft-teeth are quick to bite and she nibbles on the clover specifically: even a wild growing tulip; but the irony is that she takes the flower itself directly and leaves the stem. Explorative while he ponders she makes faces and grunts at different things, turning to look him over when he starts to speak.
Twisting herself she turns, and her back legs slide into the briars. Thought she doesn’t cry out she does take extra moments to shake and try to detangle the spidery legs from the grasping thorns and vines- kicking a few times as she steps forward with the same greenery now tangled around her limbs. His words carry a great deal of information and she listens, her small mind putting pieces together and trying to understand. Concept she grasps, but detail, she lacks and so there is a reaction in her ears pressing backwards and head tilting, all the while her body shrinks and she slowly bends down as if unsure and preparing to spring like a rabbit or deer.
“Go where?” she speaks up, babbling a moment and nonspecific as to what her question could mean. In time though she stands slowly again, still prepared to run but less likely to. Briella of course takes little time in waiting to speak, even cut off. “King Pell? Gone.” she realizes it in the moment, Expelliarmus is gone and whoever this man is means to do as he had before: to watch her, perhaps even. She recalls some memory of her former caretaker, and even of the Forsaken Valley and how she might’ve been a Princess; but now she seems to pay more attention to Dovev, overcome by reality.
“No home. Help.” she warbles, his offers she knows- order more like it, but there is a small swallow to push the metaphorical lump down her throat and she chokes up in a slight sob that turns to sigh. “Okay.” and with acceptance she walks forward in clear steps, letting Dovev touch her shoulder- ruffle the mane, and even stand closer than he had. “Dovev.” she murmurs softly, sounding out the name and peering up at him to take advantage of this moment, her small nose reaching up and brushing the bony plate.
Luke warm and firm she does not know what to think of it, and simply continues trying to communicate, “Flowerrr.” unintentionally she rolls the ‘r’ at the end, her ears flopping and much smaller body staying close, in fact so much that as she lowers her head Briella is able to begin to weave between his forelimbs and position herself to be an awkward roadblock that peered out from his side. “Food? Belly, grrr.” the word she does not know and so she makes a sound.
@[Dovev] god save him from this child
Twisting herself she turns, and her back legs slide into the briars. Thought she doesn’t cry out she does take extra moments to shake and try to detangle the spidery legs from the grasping thorns and vines- kicking a few times as she steps forward with the same greenery now tangled around her limbs. His words carry a great deal of information and she listens, her small mind putting pieces together and trying to understand. Concept she grasps, but detail, she lacks and so there is a reaction in her ears pressing backwards and head tilting, all the while her body shrinks and she slowly bends down as if unsure and preparing to spring like a rabbit or deer.
“Go where?” she speaks up, babbling a moment and nonspecific as to what her question could mean. In time though she stands slowly again, still prepared to run but less likely to. Briella of course takes little time in waiting to speak, even cut off. “King Pell? Gone.” she realizes it in the moment, Expelliarmus is gone and whoever this man is means to do as he had before: to watch her, perhaps even. She recalls some memory of her former caretaker, and even of the Forsaken Valley and how she might’ve been a Princess; but now she seems to pay more attention to Dovev, overcome by reality.
“No home. Help.” she warbles, his offers she knows- order more like it, but there is a small swallow to push the metaphorical lump down her throat and she chokes up in a slight sob that turns to sigh. “Okay.” and with acceptance she walks forward in clear steps, letting Dovev touch her shoulder- ruffle the mane, and even stand closer than he had. “Dovev.” she murmurs softly, sounding out the name and peering up at him to take advantage of this moment, her small nose reaching up and brushing the bony plate.
Luke warm and firm she does not know what to think of it, and simply continues trying to communicate, “Flowerrr.” unintentionally she rolls the ‘r’ at the end, her ears flopping and much smaller body staying close, in fact so much that as she lowers her head Briella is able to begin to weave between his forelimbs and position herself to be an awkward roadblock that peered out from his side. “Food? Belly, grrr.” the word she does not know and so she makes a sound.
@[Dovev] god save him from this child