[ Astarion squeals in the most undignified way, shaking his injured leg wildly in an attempt to get Tara off of him, which only results in her digging in harder. Let it never be said that he can't make a situation worse. ]
Get off of me, you rotten thing—
[ "Tara, please—" Gale says, horrified, and then, "Astarion, please! You have to stop moving!"
Once Astarion obeys, Gale carefully extracts Tara's claws from the fabric of his trousers, a feat only possible because Tara would rather die than harm her precious Gale. "Tara," he scolds as he lifts her furry little body away. She perches on his shoulder, glaring daggers at Astarion. "You know he didn't mean it." ]
no subject
Get off of me, you rotten thing—
[ "Tara, please—" Gale says, horrified, and then, "Astarion, please! You have to stop moving!"
Once Astarion obeys, Gale carefully extracts Tara's claws from the fabric of his trousers, a feat only possible because Tara would rather die than harm her precious Gale. "Tara," he scolds as he lifts her furry little body away. She perches on his shoulder, glaring daggers at Astarion. "You know he didn't mean it." ]