The Conniving One nippled at Twig's tail, tugging on it even it as it curled at its end, too eager to contain himself. "This way," he said, with his voice down low, brown eyes sparkling with mischief and mirth in equal measure. "It's not too far, the border is close, and I already told them you were coming, so--"
The Conniving One stopped short, ducking into a playbow of apology-- for Twig had entirely frozen from head to toe, green eyes wide.
"Sorry," he said, after a beat. After another, he hopped backwards a little, nub of a tail wagging hopefully, too-eager to show his new friend the wonders of his home.
Slowly-- so, so slowly-- Twig relaxed. He had a tendency to play dead, The Conniving One noticed, and was awfully quiet, or at least he was right now. Maybe it was because of what he was made of, or maybe he just didn't approve of being mishandled. Both of these were fair, The Conniving One guessed, and so he offered Twig a toothy grin of apology before prancing ahead again.