[ Hand stolen away, Shea curls his lips in a mock-snarl, wiggling his fingers a little so that he taps them against her face. But then he barks out a laugh - a sound that is, truly, a mix between bark and laughter - as she scratches at his stomach. The sentiment is appreciated, considering the long period where he went with so little positive contact, but also simultaneously amusing and endearing. Especially with the fact that she's talking to him with his hand in her mouth.
Don't talk with your mouth full, he scolds, in a playful growl, instead of telling her she never will.
When he last had pack, it was when he was young. When a child is malleable and learning, when Shea should have been running with cousins or even siblings, discovering what he was. But now is when he gets to do it, well into his twenties, and with a mismatched group of people.
A huff is her only agreement at first, as he shoots a look over to where said selfish companions are practicing magic. They don't know any better, he laments, whine low but meaning dry. We could educate them, but it'd probably be weird to them. ]
[ She wants to blow a raspberry at him, but the restriction of his hand just means she winds up licking his palm, as if she were a canine herself. She's sure sea creatures and land dwellers aren't meant to get along this well, but maybe they aren't so different -- that they're two animals in the presence of a witch and a prince makes them more similar than any pair of humans walking the Earth. ( And if Shea needs a pack, Bean is all for howling at the moon, or burying bones in the back yard. )
Stretching her arms out, Beanie touches the floor with the tips of her fingers, testing the extent of her grace ( which doesn't reach too far, and she's probably going to fall on her face any second ). She lets out a guttural whine, a mock lamenting sound, suggesting a sadness that is maybe a little over dramatic.
Quinn used to give pets all the time when I was a seal. You're right, I think she finds it weird now. ]
[ Face scrunching up as she licks his hand, Shea pries it free and shakes it out as if she's slobbered all over him. But then he reaches it back down again, setting it on her stomach to make sure that if she does wind up leaving the chair, it'll be in a slow slide instead of a sudden drop onto her head. Hardy as they both are, as compared to their more genuinely human-shaped compatriots, it's still unpleasant to knock your head into things.
The easy companionship is something that he hasn't felt in a long time. It does feel like pack, and maybe seals and wolves are different in so many ways, but Shea and Bean aren't. Their cages and their separate skin are evidence enough.
He can't help the fond smile on his face as she complains, a little more dramatically than is necessary. Slouching further in his seat, so that the armrests of his seat settle under his arms, he tilts it back and forth with a heavy sigh that turns into him noisily blowing air.
She probably doesn't think of it the same way she used to. Alex likes to joke about how he'll pat my head when I've been a good boy. ]
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Don't talk with your mouth full, he scolds, in a playful growl, instead of telling her she never will.
When he last had pack, it was when he was young. When a child is malleable and learning, when Shea should have been running with cousins or even siblings, discovering what he was. But now is when he gets to do it, well into his twenties, and with a mismatched group of people.
A huff is her only agreement at first, as he shoots a look over to where said selfish companions are practicing magic. They don't know any better, he laments, whine low but meaning dry. We could educate them, but it'd probably be weird to them. ]
no subject
Stretching her arms out, Beanie touches the floor with the tips of her fingers, testing the extent of her grace ( which doesn't reach too far, and she's probably going to fall on her face any second ). She lets out a guttural whine, a mock lamenting sound, suggesting a sadness that is maybe a little over dramatic.
Quinn used to give pets all the time when I was a seal. You're right, I think she finds it weird now. ]
no subject
The easy companionship is something that he hasn't felt in a long time. It does feel like pack, and maybe seals and wolves are different in so many ways, but Shea and Bean aren't. Their cages and their separate skin are evidence enough.
He can't help the fond smile on his face as she complains, a little more dramatically than is necessary. Slouching further in his seat, so that the armrests of his seat settle under his arms, he tilts it back and forth with a heavy sigh that turns into him noisily blowing air.
She probably doesn't think of it the same way she used to. Alex likes to joke about how he'll pat my head when I've been a good boy. ]