[She truly ponders if she should find someone with more medical experience than her. Death is but another journey for one such as her, who can slip to and from, dance around the Gates of Death. Not that it is something for merriment. It is a place where one does need to be mindful.
There's a few steps forward, to bop her nose against his finger tips and give a small lick. For all intents and purposes, she does seem a real dog. Fur, skin, a wet nose, a warm tongue. There's a faint dampish smell to her, which the Dog would say it right and proper. Dogs aren't meant to carry the aroma of soap and flowers.
It's closer, until her head dips a little so that his hand can rest on the top of her head, unless he pulls it away, as she slips down to lay, head resting on her paws. There is a watchful expression, eyebrows seeming to rise a little as she looks upward at him.]
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There's a few steps forward, to bop her nose against his finger tips and give a small lick. For all intents and purposes, she does seem a real dog. Fur, skin, a wet nose, a warm tongue. There's a faint dampish smell to her, which the Dog would say it right and proper. Dogs aren't meant to carry the aroma of soap and flowers.
It's closer, until her head dips a little so that his hand can rest on the top of her head, unless he pulls it away, as she slips down to lay, head resting on her paws. There is a watchful expression, eyebrows seeming to rise a little as she looks upward at him.]