[ Gorgug looks down when Fabian talks about being bitten, that than you, and the way that it makes heat rush to his face--as if looking away might work gravity on the blush that's darkening his cheeks. There's things he wants to say, or more of a feeling he wants to evoke; and maybe there's some tiny part of him that's envious that he's not the bigger bite, without any of the ugly emotions behind it.
He brings his hands into view, or messes around with the fingers just to give the illusion that he's paying any attention to them, and not the things his body are trying to tell him he wants to pay attention to. Did I do a bad job biting you? Should I try again? ]
Okay, [ is what he says; lamely, attempting to sound some semblance towards normal. ] We should clean it out when we get back... I don't know how clean my tusks are... I usually have to get tape for them if they're gonna get in the way.
[ Which probably sounds confusing or nonsensical to Fabian.
And to Gorgug, he isn't entirely thinking about what he's sharing, either: the certain kind of situations where his tusks might be a problem, that he doesn't usually share with others. ]
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He brings his hands into view, or messes around with the fingers just to give the illusion that he's paying any attention to them, and not the things his body are trying to tell him he wants to pay attention to. Did I do a bad job biting you? Should I try again? ]
Okay, [ is what he says; lamely, attempting to sound some semblance towards normal. ] We should clean it out when we get back... I don't know how clean my tusks are... I usually have to get tape for them if they're gonna get in the way.
[ Which probably sounds confusing or nonsensical to Fabian.
And to Gorgug, he isn't entirely thinking about what he's sharing, either: the certain kind of situations where his tusks might be a problem, that he doesn't usually share with others. ]