Hmm, good. I'm glad. I'd hate to pick the wrong term of endearment otherwise.
( Heh heh, en-deer-ment. But she smiles as if it truly is a privilege, as if she truly is happy— because she is. He's been kind around her and she's been interested in getting to know him better, and this is a good step toward that. He seemed a bit lonely and like to keep his cards close to his chest, harmful as that can be, and she wants to be able to alleviate even a small portion of that with company.
They'll take turns eating and speaking, back and forth, but the questions have her smile turning a bit baffled, because... well, no one has asked her anything like that before. She'll start poking through photos on her phone he'll see with the holographic projection to pull up a good example to show him. The antlers were hit and miss, Iris coming and going more often without them than with. And it's certainly not the racier photo from when she'd first arrived here, and everyone was chronicling their changes. )
I was indeed; see? As for enjoying it... I suppose that depends on the person, really. The effects of Iris were— pleasant, I suppose. If a bit overwhelming. The traits were mild enough that I didn't worry about them and they caused me no discomfort, and unobtrusive enough that I had no reason to dislike them, so I suppose I would say I enjoyed them. I could easily understand people with significantly more changes or different appearances not enjoying the process, though. Those who grow scales seem terribly uncomfortable with them, and all I had to deal with were velvety spots.
My penchant for letting them be touched hasn't changed at all, even under Sanguis with my canine traits. The sensitivity of the ears and tails have been about the same, and I've found it pleasant when others touch them. I think the novelty of it and the change in our nervous system makes it interesting to everyone and it's a kinder way to explore the changes instead of others.
( She hopes that isn't too much to admit to; she doesn't talk about how it'd felt to have the spots rubbed over, or the faint sensation of the velveteen antlers, or the awkward positions the tail forced on her in chairs or in bed sometimes. That isn't much better as a wolf. Generally-speaking, however, she just likes affection shared, so she never minds letting others do silly things like rub her ears— grabbing her tail is a different matter entirely, however. Don't Do That. )
no subject
( Heh heh, en-deer-ment. But she smiles as if it truly is a privilege, as if she truly is happy— because she is. He's been kind around her and she's been interested in getting to know him better, and this is a good step toward that. He seemed a bit lonely and like to keep his cards close to his chest, harmful as that can be, and she wants to be able to alleviate even a small portion of that with company.
They'll take turns eating and speaking, back and forth, but the questions have her smile turning a bit baffled, because... well, no one has asked her anything like that before. She'll start poking through photos on her phone he'll see with the holographic projection to pull up a good example to show him. The antlers were hit and miss, Iris coming and going more often without them than with. And it's certainly not the racier photo from when she'd first arrived here, and everyone was chronicling their changes. )
I was indeed; see? As for enjoying it... I suppose that depends on the person, really. The effects of Iris were— pleasant, I suppose. If a bit overwhelming. The traits were mild enough that I didn't worry about them and they caused me no discomfort, and unobtrusive enough that I had no reason to dislike them, so I suppose I would say I enjoyed them. I could easily understand people with significantly more changes or different appearances not enjoying the process, though. Those who grow scales seem terribly uncomfortable with them, and all I had to deal with were velvety spots.
My penchant for letting them be touched hasn't changed at all, even under Sanguis with my canine traits. The sensitivity of the ears and tails have been about the same, and I've found it pleasant when others touch them. I think the novelty of it and the change in our nervous system makes it interesting to everyone and it's a kinder way to explore the changes instead of others.
( She hopes that isn't too much to admit to; she doesn't talk about how it'd felt to have the spots rubbed over, or the faint sensation of the velveteen antlers, or the awkward positions the tail forced on her in chairs or in bed sometimes. That isn't much better as a wolf. Generally-speaking, however, she just likes affection shared, so she never minds letting others do silly things like rub her ears— grabbing her tail is a different matter entirely, however. Don't Do That. )