[Well, that certainly explained some of the language barrier Sniper had seen crop up between them, though how she'd gotten onto such a tangent was beyond him. He nodded dumbly, his brow knitting together in mild confusion- the look remained on him until she's paid for the pooch.]
Don't spin him too much, now. You'll make him sick. Wouldn't want him ruining your dress.
[And in Sniper's mind, that'd be certainly be a shame.]
[Action]
Don't spin him too much, now. You'll make him sick. Wouldn't want him ruining your dress.
[And in Sniper's mind, that'd be certainly be a shame.]