milliways_bar | (no subject)

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When Carl comes downstairs, he's met with the sight of construction toy 'mania' and it only takes him a minute to remember just what that means. The vid-window that appears when he approaches the bar confirms it, and after a moment of browsing his possible options, he makes his selection.

Four legs is going to take some getting used to, for a moment. But then, Bar provides him with a squeaky toy, and all bets are off.

And this bunny rabbit is going down.

open all cubefall!

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(OOC: At some point, there will be a joint William and Bill EP as horse and wee coon, but for now I thought I'd tag with Sam.)

Sam's been enjoying watching everyone shift and laughs when he spots the beautiful dog with a rabbit,

"Oh you're like the dogs I hunt with. Hello."

The dog's ears perk, fleece rabbit now soaked in drool, and he 'grins'.

(It's the dog equivalent of 'hello!'.)

Sam offers a hand for sniffing,

"What kind of dog are you? I bet you're meant to hunt great beasts."

The bar's translation field isn't quite doing the trick, but Carl barks once.

Once for yes, twice for no?

"I'm Sam. We have some dogs like you in Belisaere for our hunts. Are you a patron or normally?"

He starts scritching behind one of Carl's ears.

His foot starts to twitch against the floorboards. He's not sure how to answer, so again, he barks once.

"Never mind. I'll just keep doing this and then maybe we could run outside. You look like you're meant to run."

Squeaky toy? Why doesn't she get a squeaky toy? Should Carl end up near the fireplace, he's going to have a tiger on the couch sulking at him.

She didn't get a squeaky toy...

Carl pauses mid-squeak from the spot he's taken up by the fireplace, looking up at the familiar tiger.

He pads over to the couch and deposits the rabbit near her paws, then gently nuzzles her fur with his nose.

Perhaps this will make up for the slightly drooled on bunny?

Should she have been in human form, Trudy would have grinned. As it is, her ears prick up and the tip of her tail swishes, and with one of her massive paws, the rabbit is squashed.

And it squeaks.

...she might do this a couple more times, just because.

His ears are pricked up at the sound, because it sounds like a rabbit.

And deerhounds love rabbits.

Rabbbbbbbit.

Probably, if Trudy actually tried to make it squeak, she'd destroy the toy in one bite. Which is sad.

She can totally try and pat Carl, though.

Gently.

"Whuff."

Tongue lolling (because she's not going to crush him with that paw, he knows it) he 'grins' at her.

The thing about being tiger is that she's easily amused.

Actually, Trudy's usually pretty easily amused, but it's more obvious now. And also, her boyfriend is now entertainingly small and waggy. And he'd been having such fun with the rabbit...

She wonders if he'll chase it.

She grabs the rabbit with her mouth, tosses it up in the air, and then swats it with one of her giant paws.

There's a bit of a flailing when it comes to scrabbling up off of the floor in pursuit of the squeaky toy, but once he has his legs under him, it's no contest.

A plate of pasta goes flying as Carl streaks past a waitrat.

Here's the thing: tigers can't laugh. But Trudy does her damned best. It sounds almost like a purr, almost a growl, but in her head, she's laughing.

And he knows she's laughing, but he's more focused on the rabbit than her throaty chuckling at the moment.

Once he has retrieved the rabbit, however?

He and his prey return to the couch.

Running would be better outside.

But there is pasta sauce to be cleaned from the rabbit's fleecy coat.

But, couch!

Tigers don't whine, don't be silly.

Lazy.

He's not sticking his tongue out at her, no. He's just panting.

Right.

Cat! she retorts, smugly. Conserving energy.

For what? Another nap?

Carl snuffles his nose up against her neck, then nudges insistently at her. He can be an instigator, for once.

She yawns at him, almost defiantly. Fine, she grumbles, giving him a lick as she slides off the couch.

Of course, once she's down on the ground, she grabs the rabbit in her mouth and trots off towards the door.

The wiry coat on the side of his face is now smudged upwards in a comical fashion.

Who knew that tiger spit was so...uplifting.

Carl paws at his face for a brief second, and then follows towards the back door, hardly making a sound save for the quiet clicking of his toenails against the hardwood.

It'd be mean for Trudy to then run at her full speed, in order to get him to chase her.

So, she doesn't.

Run at full speed, that is.

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