Harley's lounging in bed, flipping through a sex toy catalogue she'd managed to pick up on her way home that day, idly folding down the corners of pages when she sees something particularly interesting -- although, given her proclivity for the extreme, she's not terribly taken by what's mostly run of the mill vibrators and dildos -- when she hears the front door open.
It has Bruce lifting his head and growling low in his throat, and it doesn't take Harley long to realize why. Bruce has been being a little shit about Joker but he at least doesn't growl when the clown comes home. He does however, like to sound the alarm when anyone else enters.
She's waiting for the right time to burst into the living area anyway when she hears her name, and rolls the glossy magazine up, hopping up from the bed, hair a little wild from laying down but right on brand for the rest of her look, which has a certain rumpled glam vibe to it. Patting Bruce on the head, she murmurs, "Stay, buddy," before heading out and shutting the bedroom door with her foot.
It takes her all of about half a second to zero in on the Ketos, which is really something, because, typically, when she enters a room, her eyes go right to her Dominant. But right now, her gaze skims over Joker, even skims over the other person there, and goes right to the creature, her expression brightening.
She really does adore ugly animals.
"Oh my God. Who's the baby!?"
Unlike Joker, she approaches it without a single care in the world about how tasty her fingers might look to something with multiple rows of teeth. "Can I pet it? Tell me I can pet it."
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It has Bruce lifting his head and growling low in his throat, and it doesn't take Harley long to realize why. Bruce has been being a little shit about Joker but he at least doesn't growl when the clown comes home. He does however, like to sound the alarm when anyone else enters.
She's waiting for the right time to burst into the living area anyway when she hears her name, and rolls the glossy magazine up, hopping up from the bed, hair a little wild from laying down but right on brand for the rest of her look, which has a certain rumpled glam vibe to it. Patting Bruce on the head, she murmurs, "Stay, buddy," before heading out and shutting the bedroom door with her foot.
It takes her all of about half a second to zero in on the Ketos, which is really something, because, typically, when she enters a room, her eyes go right to her Dominant. But right now, her gaze skims over Joker, even skims over the other person there, and goes right to the creature, her expression brightening.
She really does adore ugly animals.
"Oh my God. Who's the baby!?"
Unlike Joker, she approaches it without a single care in the world about how tasty her fingers might look to something with multiple rows of teeth. "Can I pet it? Tell me I can pet it."