Moved from here // @playtimetoybox
Six didn't respond, mulling over the apology as she merely stared, offering no assistance whatsoever to the doll. She had no idea when was the last time she'd heard an apology. An apology directed to... to her, at that. Being sorry wasn't part of survival.
Her frown deepened. Another partnership that was too good to be true.
But, much like before, Six found herself unable to survive alone. She was tired, hungry, and had been chased relentlessly by toy-like Residents left, right, and center. Even a clever little survivalist like her couldn't last in forever in those conditions.
By the time Poppy successfully picked up the brush and turned back around, Six's face had fallen back into neutrality. Neutrality which was immediately punctured by a tiny stab of surprise; the girl opened her mouth, shut it, and then ducked her head, the shadow of her hood obscuring the rest of her face at that angle.
It was such a... normal question. Six almost didn't want to respond at all; just turn away and leave. It felt like a trap. It sounded like something The Pretender would've made up, back at The Nest, if she'd cared at all about keeping up appearances.
"...Okay," Six instead replied, pulling back the hood of her raincoat to expose the rest of her utter mess of black hair. It was better to play along not to incur the doll's wrath. Not from so close. Not yet.
Not because she was tired of running away.
Six sat on the vanity's little matching stool, then shuffled in place, turning so that her back was to Poppy. Her posture visibly spoke of tension, shoulders hunched and fingers gripping the seat. Not to mention that she was already fidgeting a little bit, rubbing the heel of one foot against the ankle of her other leg.
