Date: 2011-11-04 06:08 am (UTC)
[Tavros clears his throat, and then, because this isn't usually something he does standing up, he lowers himself to the floor with a slight clanking of his robo-legs. Once settled, he blinks up at Dave for a moment, as if looking for reassurance that this is okay.]

aLRIGHT,
i GUESS,
pAY CLOSE ATTENTION, bRO,
i MEAN,
mR. sTRIDER,
};)


[He grips his bulge by the base, and it squirms pleasantly against his palm, already glistening a little with coppery slime. Tentatively, but with increasing confidence, he glides his hand up to the tip, over ridges and bumps, whimpering a little when it wraps itself around his pinkie finger for a moment.]
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