The room held still for a moment, only the table's projectors muttering above the ring of seats. whrrrr~
Elle kept the box open in both hands. The collar rested inside, a thin band of dark metal etched with uneven sigils. Her eyes flicked up, searching his face.
"You… don't like it?" The words came small. Her mouth dipped.
Don drew breath to answer—
Trixie leaned around his shoulder, tail swaying lazy S-curves. "Uhh, Elle, maybe tell him what it does first. He might think you're asking him to become your pet, unless—"
The lid snapped shut. clap~
"S-shut up!" Elle's frown arrived with a wash of color climbing her cheeks. She angled the box against her ribs and glared past Don.
Trixie's grin didn't move. "Heh."
Don raised a brow. "Uhm—"
"Sorry," Elle said quickly, pivoting back to him. "I… forgot to explain for a second."
