In many ways, that strange feeling of comfortable familiarity almost makes him more nervous. Nothing pleasant has ever come for him in his brief experience, no matter how good it seemed on the surface. Not unless it was from his mother, at least.
So he trails behind wordlessly, following mostly because that's what he seems to be expected to do, one hand clutching a fistful of the white creature's fur while he stares wide-eyed at everything.
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So he trails behind wordlessly, following mostly because that's what he seems to be expected to do, one hand clutching a fistful of the white creature's fur while he stares wide-eyed at everything.