To find forgiveness in the weeds
"I hope it might mix my good fluid with his...or... the other way around...somehow help or aid my understanding." He shrugged at Kaimana, unsure of exactly what the plan was himself.
Sam fought against his instinct to put a hand over his nose, not wanting to offend the Prince - though it seemed he had already done that. Holding up his hands and shaking his head, trying his best not to acknowledge the fart (though that definitely became harder as the smell approached) he said: "I'm not trying to mock you. I'm sorry if it seemed that way."
It seemed he had offended and scared the Prince. Eyes widening with concern as the creature dribbled he tried to edge a little closer. "No biting, not if you don't want it. I want to help you - how about...is there something you'd like to be called?" Perhaps, he thought, The Prince did not actually like his given title.
