Well, sort of too late: around Fenris' shoulder, Astarion had only caught a glimpse of the upper right-hand corner of— something. But whatever that fleshy something was was more than enough to have him nearly tripping over his own feet as he careens— or shrinks— or buries himself like a dog against the back of Fenris' arm, both grabbing and yelping out pitched whines for the sake of expressing his dismay, the two of them now closer to being halfway up the wall than standing on their feet.
You're a monster! is the jist of Astarion's accusatory wailing, barely muffled in a sea of finely sewn linen (and even finer muscle), for the last and final time prompting a rattling of the handle— ]
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Well, sort of too late: around Fenris' shoulder, Astarion had only caught a glimpse of the upper right-hand corner of— something. But whatever that fleshy something was was more than enough to have him nearly tripping over his own feet as he careens— or shrinks— or buries himself like a dog against the back of Fenris' arm, both grabbing and yelping out pitched whines for the sake of expressing his dismay, the two of them now closer to being halfway up the wall than standing on their feet.
You're a monster! is the jist of Astarion's accusatory wailing, barely muffled in a sea of finely sewn linen (and even finer muscle), for the last and final time prompting a rattling of the handle— ]