[This level of distracted isn't meant coldly. If someone were in dire need of her, she would have no hesitations. As she is now, all she does is lay there, slowly closes her eyes to let heavy sigh after heavy sigh slip from her in thankfulness that Red would not only stop to check on her, but go this far, to stroke her, to comfort. It's not her place, she shouldn't feel a tug to make a mother feel better, that's not her duty. And Amaterasu does have some measure of guilt, and it's true that she won't wallow forever, but as things stand now, perhaps the unexpected, absolute sucker punch of it all has put her in a state.
She adjusts again to see what Red wants to communicate to her, borderline groaning in that light appreciation for ear scratching while she reads. Following this, she lifts her eyes to her, and her ears tuck to her neck, and pitifully, a profusion of high-pitched, whimpers comes out of her, so close in succession it's hard not to imagine them stacked upon each other. It's apologetic, she's slumped but trying to pick herself up.
Red's right, she ought to want to go elsewhere. What good is this doing her. What good is it doing anyone? There's no benefit to this, these are all facts, but still she seems reluctant to move, and still that fussing whimpering rushes out of her. Usually unconcerned with what her own body will do, she watches her paws, is so, so, so painstakingly careful about where they're set, not wanting to catch claws on photographs. If Red is patient enough, eventually, Ammy's standing too, her head bowed to the sidewalk to nudge the images with nose as if trying to gingerly move them out of the way.
Another passerby nearly steps on one, and while she doesn't growl, she bristles, and puts herself in the way enough that they almost stumble over her. They seem a little surprised, but merely hurry along their way.]
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She adjusts again to see what Red wants to communicate to her, borderline groaning in that light appreciation for ear scratching while she reads. Following this, she lifts her eyes to her, and her ears tuck to her neck, and pitifully, a profusion of high-pitched, whimpers comes out of her, so close in succession it's hard not to imagine them stacked upon each other. It's apologetic, she's slumped but trying to pick herself up.
Red's right, she ought to want to go elsewhere. What good is this doing her. What good is it doing anyone? There's no benefit to this, these are all facts, but still she seems reluctant to move, and still that fussing whimpering rushes out of her. Usually unconcerned with what her own body will do, she watches her paws, is so, so, so painstakingly careful about where they're set, not wanting to catch claws on photographs. If Red is patient enough, eventually, Ammy's standing too, her head bowed to the sidewalk to nudge the images with nose as if trying to gingerly move them out of the way.
Another passerby nearly steps on one, and while she doesn't growl, she bristles, and puts herself in the way enough that they almost stumble over her. They seem a little surprised, but merely hurry along their way.]