[ Teatime's free hand shot up to snatch the utensil from midair-- but this was not the reality he was used to. His reflexes were slower, his muscles less toned, and he lacked the scrying stone that made it so that he didn't have to look to see. His fingertips bumped metal and the spoon bounced upward enthusiastically. He was rewarded with a small shower of food-mush over his wrist and sleeve. His lip curled in disgust.
The second attempt-- this time with his dominant hand, and his eyes tracking properly-- was successful. He contemplated the scuffed spoon briefly before turning his gaze on its owner, calculating. It wouldn't do to jam the utensil into the boy's eye, so he sifted through other possibilities until something more socially acceptable popped up. ]
Dropped this. [ He chirped with a smile. He offered the spoon handle-first as though he were passing a knife. ]
no subject
The second attempt-- this time with his dominant hand, and his eyes tracking properly-- was successful. He contemplated the scuffed spoon briefly before turning his gaze on its owner, calculating. It wouldn't do to jam the utensil into the boy's eye, so he sifted through other possibilities until something more socially acceptable popped up. ]
Dropped this. [ He chirped with a smile. He offered the spoon handle-first as though he were passing a knife. ]