[He's been getting a lot of staring. Wearily, Julien opens the wing that's not up against the back of the bench as if saying yes, it's real. A few clawed fingers stick out of it. It is big, and whiter than the old snow of the lot.
Julien's lips compress. A dish! Like was all animal! He keeps himself from saying anything. It's not an unreasonable thing to consider.]
A bottle's fine. Open it? Or unseal it anyway. [Bringing the outstretched wing in some, he rubs thumb against the two other mobile fingers, rasping pebbly scales together.] I'm not sure how good I am with caps.
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Julien's lips compress. A dish! Like was all animal! He keeps himself from saying anything. It's not an unreasonable thing to consider.]
A bottle's fine. Open it? Or unseal it anyway. [Bringing the outstretched wing in some, he rubs thumb against the two other mobile fingers, rasping pebbly scales together.] I'm not sure how good I am with caps.