a raised brow, utterly perplexed by what is trying to be explained.
staring, observing, thinking.... freezing in complete and utter despair from implications.
“ no... no, I can't be — i'm not, no. i am extremely careful, i shouldn't be. ”
〈 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔰 〉🥀
a frustrated pout expression overwhelms usual cheer - how nutmeg hates no one but God can understand sometimes !!
clear throat .
place hand on stomach momentarily before . . making a rounding motion in front .
point , 🥚 ?
‘ Nutmeg 🧁
another blink. he's listening... or trying to at least... he doesn't speak angel.
but he doesn't quite understand. confused and tired, head tilting to side.
“ i — what ? ”
〈 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔰 〉🥀
fluffy arms slowly cross . . .
brows furrowing - eyes narrowing and —
tail beginning to wag as the angels head wings flap , creating puffs of pink and blue powdered sugar.
squeak ? ¿ whistle ! chirp ? 🐣 ?
‘ Nutmeg 🧁
the disease was simply resting in his garden. head now turned to stare at the sudden appearance. blinking. blinking.
“ hello. . ?? ”
〈 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔰 〉🥀
tip - tapping finger against lip . . . , , ,
. . .
. . .
it materializing in front of @diseasedflowers.bsky.social ; confetti and tiny balloons float off . squinting .
