The snarl sounds canine. The weight feels canine, too. But there's nothing to see, and he doesn't know enough about Ava's world or Ava's powers.
"Hey there," Trowa says to it, low and calm, as if he's standing on a sidewalk speaking soothingly to a stranger's dog. As if he didn't jerk his right arm up across his throat, because he'd rather his forearm be mauled than his jugular; as if he isn't about to do his best to throw off the invisible maybe-dog if he can, unless it proves friendly after all.
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The snarl sounds canine. The weight feels canine, too. But there's nothing to see, and he doesn't know enough about Ava's world or Ava's powers.
"Hey there," Trowa says to it, low and calm, as if he's standing on a sidewalk speaking soothingly to a stranger's dog. As if he didn't jerk his right arm up across his throat, because he'd rather his forearm be mauled than his jugular; as if he isn't about to do his best to throw off the invisible maybe-dog if he can, unless it proves friendly after all.