( the mreoooooow is no more of a solid, concrete, english answer than anything before it, and for a second clarke has to wonder why she's still trying. and in that split second of self reflection is when a wet piece of sandpaper is dragged across her face. or, upon further inspection and her logical brain catching up with her sensory receptors, a tongue.
it's tongue.
the cat's tongue.
...oh, you better not actually be a human disgust wars with wow, that's commitment to the bit respect. she lifts a sleeve to rub at her cheek, makes a quietly strangled ugh! sound. and eventually straightens at an awkward angle, leaned further back than is comfortable to avoid any further lickings. but —
also very decided in this moment. )
Alright. You're coming with me.
( both hands slide out — sorry, kitty, it's still not real petting — to loop in the armpit crevices of the cat's front legs. picking the orange ball of fur up softly but quickly, like one would a toddler, and shifting to cradle its weight across her right forearm before standing. )
no subject
it's tongue.
the cat's tongue.
...oh, you better not actually be a human disgust wars with wow, that's commitment to the bit respect. she lifts a sleeve to rub at her cheek, makes a quietly strangled ugh! sound. and eventually straightens at an awkward angle, leaned further back than is comfortable to avoid any further lickings. but —
also very decided in this moment. )
Alright. You're coming with me.
( both hands slide out — sorry, kitty, it's still not real petting — to loop in the armpit crevices of the cat's front legs. picking the orange ball of fur up softly but quickly, like one would a toddler, and shifting to cradle its weight across her right forearm before standing. )