[ it's been many dark years since he's seen his friend so blatantly seek out a moment of comfort and support. But before he can respond to that or the comment-
(He would have noted that a little wet sugar sheep wool was nothing to him compared to the reek of some of the cocoa goats he's wrangled. Would have asked if Vanilla ever hauled lambs over his shoulders like the paintings of shephards Cacao has seen in past. If this form made him nostalgic)
- but his friend skitters away before he can even ponder words. He reaches up and touches the spot his head rested, like a crack he can't help picking at. With a sigh he stands, making his way to his drying clothing. The pants are still damp, but not enough to stop him putting them on and heading to the window. He leans against the sill, staring out at the woods with a stony expression]
no subject
(He would have noted that a little wet sugar sheep wool was nothing to him compared to the reek of some of the cocoa goats he's wrangled. Would have asked if Vanilla ever hauled lambs over his shoulders like the paintings of shephards Cacao has seen in past. If this form made him nostalgic)
- but his friend skitters away before he can even ponder words. He reaches up and touches the spot his head rested, like a crack he can't help picking at. With a sigh he stands, making his way to his drying clothing. The pants are still damp, but not enough to stop him putting them on and heading to the window. He leans against the sill, staring out at the woods with a stony expression]