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If Washington were ever to confide in Imperia, to tell all the important details of his past, it would be most likely be way over her level of understanding. The young wolf would certainly try her hardest to empathize, but she is only herself. Peri is no intergalactic traveler nor is she accustomed to the stress associated with being a leader of some sort. As much as she would like to claim otherwise, Peri never experienced the pressure of having lives rely on her for she was always the one who needed protecting. Washington is strong while Imperia is weak—a simple distinction which makes it evident that their experiences are on opposite sides of the spectrum. Except, perhaps, in regards to suffering pain at the hands of others. Agent Washington's body bears many scars, as does the petite she-wolf's, but the length and thickness of her fur in addition to the precise "punishments" she used to receive make it quite difficult for the naked eye to spot. Space, the universe, artificial intelligences, war—all things Miss Imperia would struggle to understand. But pain? Pain is universal, and yet so individually unique.
The petite predator waits patiently for the masked smilodon to respond, although she cannot bring herself to sit. Too much nervous energy. Peri stares at her reflection in the male's visor, intrigued by the golden tint and silly distortion of her features. Shining silver eyes still observe Agent Washington's unique appearance with a sort of childlike curiosity when he finally speaks. It takes her a moment to apply for she is too busy thinking that all his armor and the shiny visor makes him look like a beetle. Not that it is a bad thing, of course, but Imperia was raised eating raw flesh and sleeping beneath the stars. Her pack never even used human tools aside from her mother, so the concept of armor is completely foreign to her. "Are you dressed up like a beetle?" she blurts before immediately going wide-eyed and sheepish. Imperia had not meant to say that aloud. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The she-wolf instinctively scuttles backwards a few steps. "I-I apologize, that was rude," stammers the young female, her head bowed submissively. "I've just never seen something like that before...how do you even eat?" as fearful as she is of physical retribution, Imperia cannot simply turn off her curiosity. Even now, she seems to have recovered from her initial panic and creeps a couple steps closer, if only to get a better look at the craftsmanship of the armor.
The male's curt introduction only serves to strengthen her curiosity. "Agent?" she repeats. Imperia is about to ask him if Agent is a first name or a title, but contains her questions. She has already babbled enough. Silver eyes glance over quickly at Suiteheart, wondering if the older female does not possess a similar curiosity about this mysterious, armored feline. Hmm, perhaps not. "It's a pleasure to meet you," A pleasant smile tugs on the corners of her lips. Somehow, in spite of her timidity, her response is genuine. Painfully aware of how much she has spoken thus far, Imperia falls silent during the exchange between Washington and Suiteheart. As she listens, Peri begins to notice how the male is avoiding questions regarding the food resting at his paws. Although she cannot see his facial expression, the monochromatic she-wolf begins to suspect that the stranger armored creature is not fond of consuming raw meat. She can relate to that sentiment. "Um," says the petite predator as she rummages through her satchel before present a paw-ful of dried meats she keeps in there for snacks during the day. "Would you like to try some of these? I like them because they're seasoned and I am not fond of raw meat..." An awkward smile. She is afraid of being annoying. But sharing is caring, and Imperia cares. A lot.
The petite predator waits patiently for the masked smilodon to respond, although she cannot bring herself to sit. Too much nervous energy. Peri stares at her reflection in the male's visor, intrigued by the golden tint and silly distortion of her features. Shining silver eyes still observe Agent Washington's unique appearance with a sort of childlike curiosity when he finally speaks. It takes her a moment to apply for she is too busy thinking that all his armor and the shiny visor makes him look like a beetle. Not that it is a bad thing, of course, but Imperia was raised eating raw flesh and sleeping beneath the stars. Her pack never even used human tools aside from her mother, so the concept of armor is completely foreign to her. "Are you dressed up like a beetle?" she blurts before immediately going wide-eyed and sheepish. Imperia had not meant to say that aloud. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The she-wolf instinctively scuttles backwards a few steps. "I-I apologize, that was rude," stammers the young female, her head bowed submissively. "I've just never seen something like that before...how do you even eat?" as fearful as she is of physical retribution, Imperia cannot simply turn off her curiosity. Even now, she seems to have recovered from her initial panic and creeps a couple steps closer, if only to get a better look at the craftsmanship of the armor.
The male's curt introduction only serves to strengthen her curiosity. "Agent?" she repeats. Imperia is about to ask him if Agent is a first name or a title, but contains her questions. She has already babbled enough. Silver eyes glance over quickly at Suiteheart, wondering if the older female does not possess a similar curiosity about this mysterious, armored feline. Hmm, perhaps not. "It's a pleasure to meet you," A pleasant smile tugs on the corners of her lips. Somehow, in spite of her timidity, her response is genuine. Painfully aware of how much she has spoken thus far, Imperia falls silent during the exchange between Washington and Suiteheart. As she listens, Peri begins to notice how the male is avoiding questions regarding the food resting at his paws. Although she cannot see his facial expression, the monochromatic she-wolf begins to suspect that the stranger armored creature is not fond of consuming raw meat. She can relate to that sentiment. "Um," says the petite predator as she rummages through her satchel before present a paw-ful of dried meats she keeps in there for snacks during the day. "Would you like to try some of these? I like them because they're seasoned and I am not fond of raw meat..." An awkward smile. She is afraid of being annoying. But sharing is caring, and Imperia cares. A lot.