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Delirium (time_breaks) wrote in labyrinth_rpg,

The dog snuffled out a response, and Delirium translated. "He and I are kinda partners but not in the busy sense. Not in any sense. Not really mine, more his. The Underground, but there's sun. Not Sons, or Daughters. Or all suns." This thought had her slightly confused as well, more thoughtful than anything else.

"Something treacle-like, please. No green mice ice cream." She made a face then, apparently not liking that flavour, then was sliding her hand within his. "I'm not a fan, haven't got propellers." His hand was cool to the touch, which was nearly as interesting as his shininess. But if Delirium noticed that particular part, she made no show of it. Tattered laces of combat boots (which were just a little too big) made their tat-a-tat noise as they walked.