Koa
There's an art to life's distractions
"I mean, it's a cat, right? Just give him some skritches under the chin and a can of tuna and I'm sure he'll roll right over." He chuckles, mimicking the under-chin-scratching in empty air, copper eyes twinkling and eyebrows raised.
Koa remains on his feet for now, thumbs tucked comfortably into the waistband of his flamingo shorts. "Talyson and Boreal," the boy repeats, broad face pulled back into a friendly grin. "I'm Koa Carpenter. The noodle's Pipsqueak." He juts his chin toward said spaghetti, who has emerged from under her dragon-shield to lay tiny clawed hands alongside Boreal's snout, seemingly captivated by the larger dragon's scales.
Shaking his head fondly, Koa turns back to Talyson. "Sorry about the thievery. I hope we weren't interrupting something, uh, important?" He raises a brow, gaze raking across the boxer-and-vest ensemble (and the wiry figure beneath) before settling back up on the other man's bright eyes.
Koa remains on his feet for now, thumbs tucked comfortably into the waistband of his flamingo shorts. "Talyson and Boreal," the boy repeats, broad face pulled back into a friendly grin. "I'm Koa Carpenter. The noodle's Pipsqueak." He juts his chin toward said spaghetti, who has emerged from under her dragon-shield to lay tiny clawed hands alongside Boreal's snout, seemingly captivated by the larger dragon's scales.
Shaking his head fondly, Koa turns back to Talyson. "Sorry about the thievery. I hope we weren't interrupting something, uh, important?" He raises a brow, gaze raking across the boxer-and-vest ensemble (and the wiry figure beneath) before settling back up on the other man's bright eyes.
To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through
