[Ned tucks the towel into his apron pocket, not overtly concerned about any battles that may or may not be taking place on their side of the mirror but entertaining the real possibility of being trapped in the diner with multiple people over the course of the next week.
Thank God they have a bathroom in here.
With his arms already folded tightly across his chest Ned appraises William's outstretched hand like an inexperienced herpetologist eyeing a venomous snake, more concerned about human contact than he is about the lion.]
Um.
[Lacking any excuses - a rolling pin, pouring coffee, kneading dough, the list goes on - to keep his hands to himself Ned reaches out for a brief shake before retreating, offering the barest flash of a smile. It's never personal, it's just...him.]
...the lion's fine, I guess, as long as he's...dog-friendly.
[Derby, the aforementioned dog, is sitting placidly in the doorway to the kitchen with her tail thumping the floor.]
no subject
Thank God they have a bathroom in here.
With his arms already folded tightly across his chest Ned appraises William's outstretched hand like an inexperienced herpetologist eyeing a venomous snake, more concerned about human contact than he is about the lion.]
Um.
[Lacking any excuses - a rolling pin, pouring coffee, kneading dough, the list goes on - to keep his hands to himself Ned reaches out for a brief shake before retreating, offering the barest flash of a smile. It's never personal, it's just...him.]
...the lion's fine, I guess, as long as he's...dog-friendly.
[Derby, the aforementioned dog, is sitting placidly in the doorway to the kitchen with her tail thumping the floor.]