+3 blah, blah 8D
The fox-fur Comtessa didn't seem best pleased by her dusty misadventure, but she didn't look horribly put out either. Caspa had the feeling that she was the kind of person who wasn't easily dismayed by anything. It did bring it home to her how much practice and experimentation they had to do if they were ever going to follow through with their spur of the moment plan, but she wasn't impatient to get anywhere fast. Figuring this stuff out was going to be at least as interesting and amusing as showing off the results. The hotel was stuffy enough without being doused by Terra's sneeze-dust and the white hound was glad of the chance to relocate to cleaner air, but the thought of scouting for useful props amongst the human hotel-junk was also tempting. Enthusiasm was rare for Caspa but she didn't want to get over-excited and seem like she was taking charge. Terra was really the mastermind here, because she was the genuine trickster and Caspa the assistant. Although she knew she could help with ideas as well, she didn't think she had any kind of relevant talent: not enough to make her the equal in terms of performing. Presence in front of others was innate, not learned. It was confidence and skill, but it was also a knack for vibrating with a certain kind of energy, a magnetism that worked a little like charisma, and drew the eye when attention was desired. All this she could see in her minds eye: the audience, and the wolf who trained them to eat out of her hand. That figure was not distinct, but the fire within was something she was certain she could also see in Terra: not that she would be able to find a way to explain this strange notion to the girl she barely knew. All she could do for the moment was respond to the simple plan Terra had just laid out for them. "Perfect," was all she said, but of course that one word conveyed her satisfaction with both suggestions. Again Terra made one of her fluid changes and Caspa huffed with mock-envy. "I will have to catch up," she muttered as she began the shift herself, knowing she had an action-packed interlude of a minute or two of slow metamorphosis before she could once more rise to stand erect on her two Optime hindlimbs.
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