[ This guy's weird. He's an adult, isn't he? What kind of adult stays quiet like this? What kind of adult just listens instead of telling him what to do, how to behave? The silence is somewhat unnerving, as is the lack of authoritative presence, and that younger version of Gen warily watches Dextera reach for the graze -- shoulders tensed, as if expecting that little twig to be slapped out of place because he shouldn't be wasting his time like this.
Instead, Dextera straightens the twig, and that feels worse, somehow. ]
It's nothing important.
[ It's snapped, bristly and defensive, terribly obvious in the way that children often are. That grave is definitely important. Gen fixes his gaze down at the scuffed toes of his sneakers. ]
Don't bother with stuff like that. ... I only buried them because they were gross. They died m-mating. [ His cheeks flush hot as he says that word with obvious indignity, hands twisting into the fabric of his T-shirt. ] Like I'm going to leave that lying around for him to see.
no subject
Instead, Dextera straightens the twig, and that feels worse, somehow. ]
It's nothing important.
[ It's snapped, bristly and defensive, terribly obvious in the way that children often are. That grave is definitely important. Gen fixes his gaze down at the scuffed toes of his sneakers. ]
Don't bother with stuff like that. ... I only buried them because they were gross. They died m-mating. [ His cheeks flush hot as he says that word with obvious indignity, hands twisting into the fabric of his T-shirt. ] Like I'm going to leave that lying around for him to see.