catnip
"Hmmf," Catnip says in clear displeasure, eyeing the wild man and his thorns. She frowns, wondering what his sister must be doing to eclipse the startling ache of a stuck thorn. She's had plenty of distracted moments, forgetting to call the vines away from her skin and coming out scratched and irate. A shudder almost quivers down her spine - not a woman made for pain, Catnip. She's only ever known her gentle, plant-loving siblings.
"Hmmf," she says again, disagreeing with his observation on how many stuck. Cat would never allow that many to dig into her skin. "Well, ya did," comes next, quite stern and earnest; but the rueful look on Mikael's face softens her own and she regrets the maternal scolding immediately. She sighs, finding her own look of regret, and traces her gaze over the crushed group of berries. It might take a lot out of her, but she can fix the plants with some love and little rebuilding of trust; but she can't heal Mikael and he can't call the plants away, so she finds compassion.
A laugh, high and musical, escapes Cat's pursed lips. Her observant eyes leave the bleeding blackberries to find Mikael's eyes. She's begrudging in this release of tension, but doesn't regret it. "I'll be sure to include all the sweat and blood I put into growing these plants, too. Really make you look like an asshole," she answers, tilting her head coyly. A stray lock of pale purple mane falls into her eyes and she immediately tries to shake it out the way, huffing as she does.
"I'm Catnip. I don't live here but I do try to take care of these blackberries. If you see another healthy looking group berries out here, you should assume I've put some work into them," she says, with a not so subtle suggestion that he shouldn't go trampling through them, too.
"Are you sure I can't help?" Cat asks, eyes straying to the twigs and leaves in Mikael's mane. "Or, if you like the look, I can add a few more in."
@[Mikael]