Akane shrugged vaguely and gestured even more so. "Like... throwing stuff all over the floor. Bothering the birds." (Though said birds would take care of that themselves, if you were hassling them.) "Common courtesy stuff." A dismissive wave of the hand sailed through the air from her place on the ground.
"All right though," she conceded, gilded eyes fluttering away from her yellow, "you've got me there—not any less scary-looking." Though the Oni felt no such thing as fear in her heart; the merit of that remained to be seen, because it may just be that her assumed bravery was stupidity and obliviousness to danger. Akane had never fled a day in her currently short life. It was fish that feared her, women that—wait.
Her face set into an earnest sort of smile, no teeth but her natural tusks exposed, eyes pinching upward. "You don't have anything to fear from me or anybody in the Palace." Arms spread outward, palms up.
Unless you make it happen, probably, she thought, and wisely kept to herself.
With feline grace and a flick of her own tail, she gathered her feet underneath herself and sprang back to standing. The cloth remained tossed over a brawny shoulder, and she ran her hands beneath the tangled mess that was her hair to get it back into some semblance of orderliness. Glimmering petals fluttered from her snowy mane.
Niamh shifted with a creaking of branches, and something fluttered down from her grasp. Movement in her peripheral vision, Akane's head snapped upward. Pupils dilated in catlike delight, and a hand reached out to snatch the glowing flower by its stem. A petal drifted away from the force of being torn from its gentle, wobbling drift down, but... oh, "this is pretty."
Every vein shimmered with unnatural, warm light. Glittering, sparkling, unchanging as she twirled it between her thumb and index finger. "I can do that too," came her remark, hummed down at the flower. As simple as breathing, her hair took to that same glow, though it was a cool white. The thin lines of light marring her elbows and flanks flared dimly, and she glanced up at Niamh with the same Duchenne smile as before. "Matching!"
This was just the most delightful thing. The flower was lifted and set into her hair. Accessorizing.
And speaking of—her eyes glanced upward, trying to discern what they might be, exactly. Akane followed the line of sight, and Ah, that. Her own miscellaneous soft bits were naturally covered in a thick coat of hair, but wearing pants felt like... a courtesy thing. Some sort of base societal instinct dictated that they should at least not be exposed to the world. That, and they had gotten cold despite her innate protection. Except, sometimes it was appropriate to not be wearing pants. Maybe it was weird that both of them wanted pants?
The Oni's contemplative grimace said much about how deeply she was thinking on this subject.
Her ultimate decision on the matter was: Who cares? To each their own idea of clothing.
Her brows unraveled from their intense knitting just a few seconds later, and she waved her hands again, "They get cold sometimes, don't they? You can cover them if you want." A coarse chuckle sputtered from her lips, still pulled tight into a smile. "Or not. But, let's get you some pants." The kid had made her decision regardless of advice, and it was now Akane's singular Mission to get her some pants; a Herculean task, perhaps, given the total lack of equally small humanoids in the Palace, but... they'd build that bridge when they got there.
First, Akane needed to position herself underneath the faun's perch and brace herself for the most important catching of her life. Palms held aloft, she indicated toward herself, "Hop on down, I'll catch ya." Nothing but well-placed and -meaning confidence oozed from her words. As extra encouragement, she tacked on, "Promise."
@Niamh