[There's no shame in being a stomach sleeper...but by getting so flustered about it, with her and then Ramuda, Cantarella's only able to wonder what's beneath the next layer, what dense and teasable shyness has soaked into the sponge of that cute cake.]
I doubt I'll get any sleep in here, but at least we can do something before we upend the entire place. [Unnecessary thrashing will only make them drown... While her response to being contained is less viscerally violent, her complacency seems to be covering a slowly simmering discomfort.]
[ someone hold a gun to dw mobile for eating my tag anwyay
Anjo Nala sees that glimmer in Cantarella's eyes. She wonders if she should remain on guard. Her instincts say this is a kindred spirit, but also excuse, that is supposed to be her role (that she's failing, miserably)]
Those fur coats look like they'd make some nice blankets... does it bother you being in here?
[Like she didn't react to their entrapment immediately with angry scratching]
It is being further contained that troubles me...but what's one cell within a larger cage?
[It's not just being locked inside, but the encroaching apprehension that the walls might continue to close. A neighborhood has become a scatter of abandoned buildings has become a single store floor.
A shift of color in her periphery; she turns her head again. Are they sure they aren't alone? But listening yields nothing, anyway.]
[That gives Nala pause, her flippancy fading for just a moment. The anxiety claws at her heart again, remembering the way the labyrinth trapped her in an impossible cell, leaving her no room to even move or bring in her most precious items, save for a pair of beloved snakeskin gloves]
Indeed. Cages are all about us in the end, particularly in this world where we have no escape.
[Her claws lengthen instinctively at that flash of white--then, gone? Annoying]
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I doubt I'll get any sleep in here, but at least we can do something before we upend the entire place. [Unnecessary thrashing will only make them drown... While her response to being contained is less viscerally violent, her complacency seems to be covering a slowly simmering discomfort.]
no subject
Anjo Nala sees that glimmer in Cantarella's eyes. She wonders if she should remain on guard. Her instincts say this is a kindred spirit, but also excuse, that is supposed to be her role (that she's failing, miserably)]
Those fur coats look like they'd make some nice blankets... does it bother you being in here?
[Like she didn't react to their entrapment immediately with angry scratching]
no subject
[It's not just being locked inside, but the encroaching apprehension that the walls might continue to close. A neighborhood has become a scatter of abandoned buildings has become a single store floor.
A shift of color in her periphery; she turns her head again. Are they sure they aren't alone? But listening yields nothing, anyway.]
no subject
Indeed. Cages are all about us in the end, particularly in this world where we have no escape.
[Her claws lengthen instinctively at that flash of white--then, gone? Annoying]