[She slow blinks under his hand, letting a sigh, and for what he says, bumps her snout up into his palm with fussing whines. A sequence of licks follows, then she catches his fingers below middle-knuckles to hold in her teeth.
They don't sink. There's no drawing of blood, but they do leave a pressure of meaning, which is: I'm here with you. Then as if, in this way, she has a hand of her own to hold his by, she tries to lead him along. They're there together, and whatever he might feel, it'll be fine. Think of how pretty wonderful it will feel to get back into an area where he won't feel the way he's reluctant to face if he stands still.
Not that he gave her or that she took any indication from him that he'd do such a thing, but it's still her duty to make sure he doesn't feel completely desolate. To try.]
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They don't sink. There's no drawing of blood, but they do leave a pressure of meaning, which is: I'm here with you. Then as if, in this way, she has a hand of her own to hold his by, she tries to lead him along. They're there together, and whatever he might feel, it'll be fine. Think of how pretty wonderful it will feel to get back into an area where he won't feel the way he's reluctant to face if he stands still.
Not that he gave her or that she took any indication from him that he'd do such a thing, but it's still her duty to make sure he doesn't feel completely desolate. To try.]