[ the togepi seems to already like who is reaching for him. the little egg-thing shrills and shares his energy in a warm, pooling wave of emotion: joy. he stores it from others, he energizes from it, and as thanks, he shares it with those worthy enough to receive. falco’s lips split open a smile, and he holds the oval creature toward rose’s hands.
his shell seems wet to the immediate touch, but that’s because something is happening; rose looks worn and ill, and the togepi is intelligent enough to see it, to want to change it. rose will feel her pain lift and her energy restored just enough to feel the difference. it won’t peel away the aches for long nor for good, but his intention is helpful.
plus, he wants to be held. ]
I’ve been feeding him bread— little wet pieces in soup. Is that alright, for a baby?
[ soft, for a toothless mouth. bread had been the easiest thing to make— but he seeks knowledge from an expert. ]
no subject
his shell seems wet to the immediate touch, but that’s because something is happening; rose looks worn and ill, and the togepi is intelligent enough to see it, to want to change it. rose will feel her pain lift and her energy restored just enough to feel the difference. it won’t peel away the aches for long nor for good, but his intention is helpful.
plus, he wants to be held. ]
I’ve been feeding him bread— little wet pieces in soup. Is that alright, for a baby?
[ soft, for a toothless mouth. bread had been the easiest thing to make— but he seeks knowledge from an expert. ]