#ic . echo

There's a soft, repetitive thudding of fists on something soft. Over and over. Different tones of fists striking different points on what one would assume is a punching bag.

Then something tears. Fabric shredded in a swift rip.

"....Dang it."

Echo looks so proud of themself.... Clearly whatever it was they did got a reaction out of Moira! Which, really, is the only reason they pulled silly pranks like that, anyways.

But ah, the praise was abnormal coming from her! Maybe that was more of a warning. Oh, dear.

And yet, head was still held high and a smile, holding back waves of giggling, was still plastered on their features.

They'd hardly had time to recover from the rigorous workout the two had just finished when Echo was hit with such a sentimental statement. If beating up a punching bag hadn't knocked the wind out of them, Layla's words certainly had. They offered a small smile, then gave one very quick nod.

"Yeah, anytime. Sittin' with your feelings is really not good for you after all." A laugh, then, to try and lighten the mood some. "Bad feelings make really bad dinner guests!"

They set a hand on Layla's shoulder and gave a sort of reassuring squeeze, letting the ghost of a smile turn into a grin that looked more familiar on Echo's features.