[ He'd only been here for a few months- he thinks, time in Kyriakos being what it is, and he never knew how long games actually ran for- but he can't remember it ever being bad in their dorm.
Other than- well, when Delriza had been hurt. He was pretty sure that didn't count, though.
Still, instead of answering, Ochre just sways forward, wrapping one arm around the Caretaker's for support, and takes a hopping step towards the stairs. ]
It's because I am in need of a trim. The weather may not change, but I am ever growing.
( for emphasis, he uses his spare paw to fluff up some of the poofy fur at his neck. he does this while ochre uses his arm as a pillar of support, quietly ignoring it.
he only walks in time with ochre, allowing him to make his way up the stairs. )
The trip down the stairs to the kitchen is aggravatingly slow, Ochre taking one step at a time instead of two or three like he usually did. Still, the Caretaker never reacted, even when he has to leave heavily on him for a few seconds too long, having jostled his bad knee in a way that sent pain shooting up through his bones.
Finally, on the last couple steps, Ochre speaks again, his voice tense with the pain and the frustration- towards himself, the echo who'd run today, the bullshit his team had pulled that left everyone lying on the deck in pain, rather than just a few just him. ]
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[ He'd only been here for a few months- he thinks, time in Kyriakos being what it is, and he never knew how long games actually ran for- but he can't remember it ever being bad in their dorm.
Other than- well, when Delriza had been hurt. He was pretty sure that didn't count, though.
Still, instead of answering, Ochre just sways forward, wrapping one arm around the Caretaker's for support, and takes a hopping step towards the stairs. ]
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( for emphasis, he uses his spare paw to fluff up some of the poofy fur at his neck. he does this while ochre uses his arm as a pillar of support, quietly ignoring it.
he only walks in time with ochre, allowing him to make his way up the stairs. )
no subject
[ He'd needed to redye his roots, after all.
The trip down the stairs to the kitchen is aggravatingly slow, Ochre taking one step at a time instead of two or three like he usually did. Still, the Caretaker never reacted, even when he has to leave heavily on him for a few seconds too long, having jostled his bad knee in a way that sent pain shooting up through his bones.
Finally, on the last couple steps, Ochre speaks again, his voice tense with the pain and the frustration- towards himself, the echo who'd run today, the bullshit his team had pulled that left everyone lying on the deck in pain, rather than just a few
just him. ]Tea, huh? What kind we got?