[ That little nudge ripples through him like the push of novocaine or the dull weight of a high. He doesn't freeze, so much as he coasts to a halt. It doesn't do anything to the innards of Simba, but there's something unreadable that flickers across the blue of his eyes. His brows knit, enough to form a subtle crease between them. But, he doesn't move.

Instead, he almost seems to sigh. ]

Sakamoto, [ he starts, though the tone almost seems... No, it isn't exasperated, even if it should cast that way. There's too many conflicting messages. It's disapproving, but it isn't disapproving. For anyone else, it would seem... Tolerant? ] Every human being has their own limitations. Cutting hair is a specialty. [ He cants his head, only just enough to be notable. ] My skills aren't translatable.

[ That's probably true. He could create and learn any number of things, sure, but there's an artistry in that sort of skill set that Ryo seems to lack innately. It's difficult to express the inner self, when your self-perception is as porous as marble.

But: ]

You continued your summary after my initial commentary. [ He points out, his mouth dipping into the smallest of frowns. ] You had ample warning.