@waxgentleman asked: It's a bit awkward. Everytime Victoria Punk arrived, usually they would meet, happily garchu and have tea to share the news of their last voyage. However that night, the mink stood taller than him with an aura equal to her captain. Impossible to approach. Mr 3 was sure that was Linn, as she had told him about that exact transformation before in one of these said tea parties. She looked so scary, that it took him almost half an hour to walk closer—and without a face to snuzzle. He simply pats on her arm, already regretting his choice. " ….. ga.. garchu?? Missy L—linn….." (( SULLIN DAAY SULLIN DAAAY ♡ at the start of the relationship ? Pls dont kill him hes just a lil guy :(((( just wanted an garchu??

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☾ 𝕊𝕦𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 ☽

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      𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝘀𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝗿 𝘄𝐚𝘀 𝐛𝗿𝘂𝘀𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝐞𝐧𝘀𝐞 𝐟𝘂𝗿, 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝘄𝐚𝘀 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝘀𝐩𝐨𝘁 𝐛𝘆 𝐜𝗿𝐢𝐦𝘀𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝘆𝐞𝘀.      Narrowing in suspicion at first, but turning into a questioning gaze as they follow his arm   &   eventually rest on Mr. 3's face. If it wasn't pure fear that her nose picked up, it was nervousness   —   maybe a good pint of respect. Linn did not remember teaching Galdino this weird version of minkship.

     ❝ What about the hand   ? ❞     A cold stare, unfazed by this attempt to test the waters with her form.     ❝ Told you it was with the nose. Tip to tip. Not that hard, really. Sigh. ❞     The doctor places both hands against Galdino's shoulders, claws dangerously close to the poor man's neck, while readjusting his position so she would be able to look down at him in a straight fashion. Before he could utter another word, a firm brush against his nose. With Linn's very own.

     ❝ Garchu. More pronunciation on the 'R' next time. ❞