[But should he, is the question. He's not here to dance and partake in the frivolities rolled out for his masters-- they'd prefer him to remain a slinking silent thing on the outskirts of the festivities, there for protection yes and safe in the knowledge that he's ready with sheathed fangs to tear apart their enemies should such enemies reveal themselves. How they'd feel about him interacting in such a human way, chatting and dancing as though he has any right to engage in such acts, well. That's a different matter entirely.
Briefly, he glances over his shoulder, eyes searching out Sui-Feng and Julius, trying to ascertain whether they're watching, what their reactions might be should they notice him doing something like this. Neither one is observing him in this moment, although the lines of tension and uncertainty show in the way he holds himself, the threat in him briefly dampened, the things that make him seem so other temporarily erased by his own mild display of something like nerves.
He turns back to find her hand outstretched towards him, and quicksharp the usual feelings rise up, the desire to grip her by the wrist to twist it to feel the bright crack of bone beneath his nimble feelings to hear the pretty sound of her started cry, but--
--but. He controls himself perfectly, though there is a long drawn-out moment where he just stands there staring at her hand as though he barely knows what it is. Cold and still. Somehow uncertain. Then finally he reaches to take it, his fingers slim and pale but warm to the touch and despite the fineness of his bones there's the hint of hidden strength there. Carefully contained.
He looks into her face, and for one infinitesimal moment he looks, again, almost nervous. Somehow on edge.]
no subject
[But should he, is the question. He's not here to dance and partake in the frivolities rolled out for his masters-- they'd prefer him to remain a slinking silent thing on the outskirts of the festivities, there for protection yes and safe in the knowledge that he's ready with sheathed fangs to tear apart their enemies should such enemies reveal themselves. How they'd feel about him interacting in such a human way, chatting and dancing as though he has any right to engage in such acts, well. That's a different matter entirely.
Briefly, he glances over his shoulder, eyes searching out Sui-Feng and Julius, trying to ascertain whether they're watching, what their reactions might be should they notice him doing something like this. Neither one is observing him in this moment, although the lines of tension and uncertainty show in the way he holds himself, the threat in him briefly dampened, the things that make him seem so other temporarily erased by his own mild display of something like nerves.
He turns back to find her hand outstretched towards him, and quicksharp the usual feelings rise up, the desire to grip her by the wrist to twist it to feel the bright crack of bone beneath his nimble feelings to hear the pretty sound of her started cry, but--
--but. He controls himself perfectly, though there is a long drawn-out moment where he just stands there staring at her hand as though he barely knows what it is. Cold and still. Somehow uncertain. Then finally he reaches to take it, his fingers slim and pale but warm to the touch and despite the fineness of his bones there's the hint of hidden strength there. Carefully contained.
He looks into her face, and for one infinitesimal moment he looks, again, almost nervous. Somehow on edge.]