[... Okay. He furrows his brow, unsure if arm grabbing is a good idea because. Well. Because. Something about her definitely eccentric, but so far his only real sign of danger in Luceti have been robots. If only he remembered that this place might as well be called 'Storybookland'. He clears his throat, and the moment he has a suitable chance he carefully slips out of her hold, side-stepping toward the direction of the Center, rubbing his nose and trying to pretend he totally didn't just ignore her arm.]
Uhuh. Right. Just follow me; it's not that far off.
[Don't feel too bad, ma'am, he's just not so sure he wants you all up on him like that. And as long as you don't walk into any light-source and show him your gross art display, he'll at least try to guide her there. It's cold enough that the smell of blood, dried or no, is lost on his nose.]
no subject
Uhuh. Right. Just follow me; it's not that far off.
[Don't feel too bad, ma'am, he's just not so sure he wants you all up on him like that. And as long as you don't walk into any light-source and show him your gross art display, he'll at least try to guide her there. It's cold enough that the smell of blood, dried or no, is lost on his nose.]
The name's Rick Doyle. Got a name?