With as much of a choked sound as if the leash was wrapped around his own neck rather than in his hands, Loxley lurches a step at the (by now not at all) surprising springback strength of the goat when she digs her hooves in and hauls backwards. Emboldened by this sign of give, she dances up on her back legs, eyes rolling wild as she twists at the end of the lead, giving off a ferocious bleat, tongue licking the air.
Bearings wrestled back, Loxley wrangles her back onto all fours, splaying an arm wide in some instinctive display of I'm-bigger-than-you intimidation which seems to stay her.
Barely.
All of this, of course, occurring in the blurry background of the conversation taking place a few feet away. Loxley reaches backwards, blindly grabs a handful of something twiggy and leafy, tearing it loose to offer the enraged goat, tsk'ing as he might a horse. The folioage is waved at her nose, and her nostrils flare. "There, that's for you," he says, voice bright and encouraging and whispered and slightly desperate.
Doki directs a sunny smile up at Silas Dickerson as she gives the egg another spin.
"I am the greatest," she agrees, "yes."
Out of the corner of her eye, she perceives Loxley: the big, big stance, the peace offering. She sticks the egg in a pouch at her belt with one hand, and with the other she begins loosening the pin that secures her fur-lined cloak around her neck.
"We will need to look big. Your friend is right. Hey, you are right!" The egg hand she cups to her mouth to yell over at Loxley. This is a nice neighborhood, but it is also a neighborhood that is smelling like goat piss, and will smell worse of it if the Avvar goat gets her freedom. That would be funny, to Doki, and not to the people who live here. "Look big! She will be giving that respect. She will think, oh, here is a big goat, I will listen. Goats do not give gifts. They give fear."
Her cloak is loose and ready to look like big wings. Doki gives a kick to Silas' ankle.
Already quite still, perhaps in the hope that he can recede enough into the darkness to avoid further contact with the goat, Silas holds his breath at the precarious balance struck between dashing rogue and hoofed mammal. As if the slightest sound might disrupt their bearing witness to this unique understanding.
Doki yells.
”Ssssst--” he turns sharply to hiss down at her, because this was (ostensibly) a stealth operation, only to catch a kick to the ankle for the effort. His near shoulder drops over a shuffled step, defensive alarm fleeting behind his eyes.
The hissing stopped as suddenly as if she dropped a bucket over his head.
Being on his shoulders sounds supremely unnecessary --
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2021-11-08 09:34 am (UTC)Bearings wrestled back, Loxley wrangles her back onto all fours, splaying an arm wide in some instinctive display of I'm-bigger-than-you intimidation which seems to stay her.
Barely.
All of this, of course, occurring in the blurry background of the conversation taking place a few feet away. Loxley reaches backwards, blindly grabs a handful of something twiggy and leafy, tearing it loose to offer the enraged goat, tsk'ing as he might a horse. The folioage is waved at her nose, and her nostrils flare. "There, that's for you," he says, voice bright and encouraging and whispered and slightly desperate.
no subject
Date: 2021-11-09 02:19 am (UTC)"I am the greatest," she agrees, "yes."
Out of the corner of her eye, she perceives Loxley: the big, big stance, the peace offering. She sticks the egg in a pouch at her belt with one hand, and with the other she begins loosening the pin that secures her fur-lined cloak around her neck.
"We will need to look big. Your friend is right. Hey, you are right!" The egg hand she cups to her mouth to yell over at Loxley. This is a nice neighborhood, but it is also a neighborhood that is smelling like goat piss, and will smell worse of it if the Avvar goat gets her freedom. That would be funny, to Doki, and not to the people who live here. "Look big! She will be giving that respect. She will think, oh, here is a big goat, I will listen. Goats do not give gifts. They give fear."
Her cloak is loose and ready to look like big wings. Doki gives a kick to Silas' ankle.
"I will be on your shoulders. Hold still."
no subject
Date: 2021-11-09 06:07 am (UTC)Doki yells.
”Ssssst--” he turns sharply to hiss down at her, because this was (ostensibly) a stealth operation, only to catch a kick to the ankle for the effort. His near shoulder drops over a shuffled step, defensive alarm fleeting behind his eyes.
The hissing stopped as suddenly as if she dropped a bucket over his head.
Being on his shoulders sounds supremely unnecessary --