Summary: Short discussion on Pratty's infant ways.
A/N: 'Nother collections of ficlets and such because I feel like it. And because there are no Rasho fics and it upsets me.
Pratty turned to him with a thoughtful frown. "What kind of baby was I?"
"… why are you asking me?"
"Well, you said you saw me as a baby, so I was just wondering." She smiled sheepishly. "Never mind, I was just thinking."
There was a pregnant pause.
"You were… loud." He remarked. "Almost as loud as the oni children at home. You kept grabbing everything as well. It drove Shintetsu insane; however, he found it amusing when it was someone else." A peeved frown crossed his face that Pratty didn't miss.
A slow smile grew on her own. "Hehe…"
His frown grew deeper. "What are you laughing at!"
"Hehe… I did something to you didn't I? And father made fun of you." She covered her mouth to stifle another giggle, but her eyes were still narrowed mischievously at him.
Rasho scowled and folded his arms over his chest. His armor clanked softly. Pratty kept her expecting gaze firmly on him, waiting patiently for an answer.
"My horn." He said finally.
"I grabbed your horn?"
"No—you damn well tried to yank it out of my head!"
His almost petulant tone only furthered his partner's amusement. He couldn't help comparing her expression to the one adorning Shintetsu's face when Amariss finally got her daughter to slacken her grip. It made him feel nostalgic… the sight of a pale hand reaching for his forehead brought him back to the present.
"What do you think you're doing?" Rasho drifted backwards, glaring at her warily. "That is not a removable object."
Pratty's impish face suggested that she took that as a challenge and, with the promise of trouble gleaming at him from those eyes, Rasho decided that perhaps he should forgo sleep for a few days.