[He's never seen another undead with a gaze so direct. Not outside of nightmarish flickers of being hunted himself. He nearly shivers, but out of some stupid sense of not wanting to upset her, he manages to suppress it.
The groan he doesn't mind. It almost seems like a response and, like that, it makes him smile.]
That's right...
[He watches her as she moves, stilling himself so as not to interfere. He notes her dripping hand and thinks he should probably try and clean that as best he can too. And then she's touching him. Another shiver tries to work through him and this time he can't stop it. Some distant human part of him, lost in the past still, begs, please no. But he's not that person and she's not going to hurt him. At least, not with intention. More importantly, she's doing something that other undead don't do. She's trying to mirror him.
He grips his gaiter and draws it down so she can explore. The googles, too, go up. He knows she's not actually thinking of cleanliness in all this or succeeding for that matter, but it seems like the thing to do, to let her make these little attempts, the way children once played at future lives. In much the same way, he reaches out and pats her head for the effort.]
no subject
The groan he doesn't mind. It almost seems like a response and, like that, it makes him smile.]
That's right...
[He watches her as she moves, stilling himself so as not to interfere. He notes her dripping hand and thinks he should probably try and clean that as best he can too. And then she's touching him. Another shiver tries to work through him and this time he can't stop it. Some distant human part of him, lost in the past still, begs, please no. But he's not that person and she's not going to hurt him. At least, not with intention. More importantly, she's doing something that other undead don't do. She's trying to mirror him.
He grips his gaiter and draws it down so she can explore. The googles, too, go up. He knows she's not actually thinking of cleanliness in all this or succeeding for that matter, but it seems like the thing to do, to let her make these little attempts, the way children once played at future lives. In much the same way, he reaches out and pats her head for the effort.]
I hope... you're in there...