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Momos (mockitymockmock) wrote in utr_logs,

"Yeah."

Taking a deep breath, Mos nodded. Nacia wasn't the only person he wanted used to him again. He grabbed the bowl and the little plastic baby spoon in it and sat in front of his daughter. They eyed each other, Mos with a nervous eye, Nacia with...what looked like an evil gleam. He was pretty sure she could smell his fear.

"Alright. Open up." Momos lifted the spoon and held it up for her. And watched her mouth remain firmly shut.

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