[The dog's mouth opens, and sure enough, Atem's voice comes out.]
Don't worry...it's me! You can leave your sarong un-eaten.
[Guessing game: won! But even though Trish offers a light mood, Atem doesn't keep it up, not for more than a few moments. His dog-mouth falls away from the laugh, down into a more somber line.]
I assume you're here because you have questions.
[It's impossible to tell if he has ligature-marks, not under the gray Fog-cloak. But there are little raw red starbursts on the backs of his paws. His eyes go to Trish's neck and hands, even as he talks -- is she affected, too?]
no subject
Don't worry...it's me! You can leave your sarong un-eaten.
[Guessing game: won! But even though Trish offers a light mood, Atem doesn't keep it up, not for more than a few moments. His dog-mouth falls away from the laugh, down into a more somber line.]
I assume you're here because you have questions.
[It's impossible to tell if he has ligature-marks, not under the gray Fog-cloak. But there are little raw red starbursts on the backs of his paws. His eyes go to Trish's neck and hands, even as he talks -- is she affected, too?]