[ He does stop, if at the far more pressing urging of a bared back begging a scratch, as a native takes his seat within hand's reach. Dio's fingers trail down the little creature's spine, the fur parting after a pattern that seems to fascinate him. Soft, soft, soft and soft. Yes. Gooooood.
Good Sir gains precisely one look over Dio's shoulder, when he brings himself up to sit beside the native. He straightens in place, filling up space - look here, he has to look at his most imposing as this here furry friend's accidental champion. ]
Are you upset?
[ Because Dio, you see, he isn't quite certain. ]
I can tell you a joke too. In a week or so. I'll learn one.
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Good Sir gains precisely one look over Dio's shoulder, when he brings himself up to sit beside the native. He straightens in place, filling up space - look here, he has to look at his most imposing as this here furry friend's accidental champion. ]
Are you upset?
[ Because Dio, you see, he isn't quite certain. ]
I can tell you a joke too. In a week or so. I'll learn one.