[ It's with no small amount of surprise that Arietta regards him-- none of her less vocal friends had tried to express themselves in a language they were unfamiliar with, and she had figured Volug would have communicated in his own usual manner. That he's even trying is an incredibly touching gesture, and she'd rub his muzzle if she thought he'd accept it.
But she's not sure, so she only nods, tilting her head as he looks her over. There are scrapes, of course, on her cheeks, on her uncovered hands, one stocking torn to reveal a small, shallow gash. ]
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But she's not sure, so she only nods, tilting her head as he looks her over. There are scrapes, of course, on her cheeks, on her uncovered hands, one stocking torn to reveal a small, shallow gash. ]
... I'm all right.