[ The petting and cooing seems to work, the former loosening one of the vines around Fjord's arm so he has one hand free to start petting the ones on his thighs, of which there are a few. ]
There's a good plant, let me go ... Nngh!
[ He freezes as the vine around his thigh tightens. ]
Molly ... I think it prefers your, ah, special touch. If you wouldn't mind.
no subject
There's a good plant, let me go ... Nngh!
[ He freezes as the vine around his thigh tightens. ]
Molly ... I think it prefers your, ah, special touch. If you wouldn't mind.