The way she froze, it was as if she'd just committed some incalculable error and hadn't the slightest clue how to rectify it. She flinched, her head drooping low, and chanced a few brief glances at Lalataru's face. "Y-yes?" The word was a squeak of sound. Hope, uncertainty and anxiety clouded her voice, and contorted her face. Her tail lashed sideways once, and then back the other way. She snatched it up and held it between her hands as if she didn't know what else to do with it. Back went her ears, and the whole of her waited for Lalataru's answer, as if that was the only thing in the world that could make her breathe right again.
