Like a snail plucked up from a leaf by fingers faster than anything it can fathom, Richard is disrupted into delay. The signal from his brain to put up resistance misfires; he’s already taken a few steps before he hoods his brow and tenses in her grasp -- a kind of musculoskeletal sucking in of the feelers that mark mollusks as curious, happy and free.
"Miss Poppell, I --"
He looks back to the corner she’s already pulled him well away from. Where was he even going? What is his excuse?
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Date: 2020-07-13 04:39 am (UTC)Like a snail plucked up from a leaf by fingers faster than anything it can fathom, Richard is disrupted into delay. The signal from his brain to put up resistance misfires; he’s already taken a few steps before he hoods his brow and tenses in her grasp -- a kind of musculoskeletal sucking in of the feelers that mark mollusks as curious, happy and free.
"Miss Poppell, I --"
He looks back to the corner she’s already pulled him well away from. Where was he even going? What is his excuse?
"I’m not sure I follow."