[ Being stared at by Choso is like being targeted by a ray of sunlight—Marcille can't meet it directly, but she can feel it beaming onto her cheek, well-meaning if overwhelming. ]
Maybe I shouldn't...
[ Why is she lying. She's not doing anything else here. She finally lowers her head, her gaze darting from his eyes to his pigtails.
He's like a big, bumbling dog. Her instinct to take care of him overwhelms her instinct to run.
She sighs through her nose. ]
I will. Hold on one second...
[ She reaches, presses her fingertips on his head, and uses her other hand to carefully pluck the umbrella from his pigtail. ]
no subject
Maybe I shouldn't...
[ Why is she lying. She's not doing anything else here. She finally lowers her head, her gaze darting from his eyes to his pigtails.
He's like a big, bumbling dog. Her instinct to take care of him overwhelms her instinct to run.
She sighs through her nose. ]
I will. Hold on one second...
[ She reaches, presses her fingertips on his head, and uses her other hand to carefully pluck the umbrella from his pigtail. ]
How did this even get here?