He tilts his head at the rumble, eyes looking over her, a low, warning growl in his own throat. There is Big. She doesn't look Big. He knows Big, the other protector is Big. She may not be Small, but she is definitely not Big like the other protector.
His eyes follow her knuckles, looks at the shirt. He knows the shape. He likes the shape. The single meaning words are hard when spoken, but the shapes, the shapes he knows. The shapes and means and those are also things he likes. Things he likes and things the little one protector likes. No. Twin. Twin likes, that's right.
He chirps, something a slight bit friendlier. He likes it. He likes, but that's not reason to trust her.
His head perks up at the song, his eyes widening a bit. As the song goes on, he starts to sway to the music, tapping on the floor in tune with it. There is another huff of amusement at the offer of safety and he trills his own tune.
He's not afraid. There's confidence.
Another trill.
He's angry.
He straightens up at the shift in the scent. He knows those scents. Late night bonding with twin, excited little one before eating together. Its strange to see that with such an aggressive stance, frowning deeply at her.
He tilts his head at her last statement and holds his head, just staring at her. A question.
There is some mutual head-tilt action going on here.
Interspecies communication can be difficult enough when you know each other's languages. When you don't? When you're putting the pieces together as best you can, when there's every risk that something is going to get lost in translation? Yeah. Bit of a nightmare. She can tell he's trying to ask her something, but she's not sure exactly what.
So she sings again, still quiet and brief, but with enough focus behind it to get the basic concepts across; pictures painted through music alone. First is a song that sounds like him — and he'll be able to feel that, the exact experience of recognition he'd feel if he saw himself in a mirror. Second is a song that sounds like her … albeit simplified. Very, very, very simplified, like, yes, this is her, and yes, there is far more to her than meets the eye. She acknowledges it, but it isn't important right now.
Third brings those songs together, working in tandem. It's a song of allyship and hunting, of working together to render the humans a non-threat. Towards the end it lifts back up to that song of outside and warm den. They can't stay here.
... All followed by a questioning tilt of the head and a hopeful chirp.
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His eyes follow her knuckles, looks at the shirt. He knows the shape. He likes the shape. The single meaning words are hard when spoken, but the shapes, the shapes he knows. The shapes and means and those are also things he likes. Things he likes and things the little one protector likes. No. Twin. Twin likes, that's right.
He chirps, something a slight bit friendlier. He likes it. He likes, but that's not reason to trust her.
His head perks up at the song, his eyes widening a bit. As the song goes on, he starts to sway to the music, tapping on the floor in tune with it. There is another huff of amusement at the offer of safety and he trills his own tune.
He's not afraid. There's confidence.
Another trill.
He's angry.
He straightens up at the shift in the scent. He knows those scents. Late night bonding with twin, excited little one before eating together. Its strange to see that with such an aggressive stance, frowning deeply at her.
He tilts his head at her last statement and holds his head, just staring at her. A question.
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Interspecies communication can be difficult enough when you know each other's languages. When you don't? When you're putting the pieces together as best you can, when there's every risk that something is going to get lost in translation? Yeah. Bit of a nightmare. She can tell he's trying to ask her something, but she's not sure exactly what.
So she sings again, still quiet and brief, but with enough focus behind it to get the basic concepts across; pictures painted through music alone. First is a song that sounds like him — and he'll be able to feel that, the exact experience of recognition he'd feel if he saw himself in a mirror. Second is a song that sounds like her … albeit simplified. Very, very, very simplified, like, yes, this is her, and yes, there is far more to her than meets the eye. She acknowledges it, but it isn't important right now.
Third brings those songs together, working in tandem. It's a song of allyship and hunting, of working together to render the humans a non-threat. Towards the end it lifts back up to that song of outside and warm den. They can't stay here.
... All followed by a questioning tilt of the head and a hopeful chirp.