[OH Mary. Somehow this seems both familiar and fitting, doesn't it? Quatre glances down at the soggy little medusa as she attaches (he's still getting his bearings after landing in a pile of overly touchy foliage, but he's out of that at least).]
Mary?
[Poor thing. Is this fear hugging?] Are you all right? [No clue this isn't just a momentary startled hug. He'll figure it out soon.]
i
Mary?
[Poor thing. Is this fear hugging?] Are you all right? [No clue this isn't just a momentary startled hug. He'll figure it out soon.]