[He flounders in the air and manages to direct himself onto Otto's outstretched palms. He clings to his parental finger's hands, a little puffed up in surprise and fear.]
Oh, I hate that. I hate that a lot. [Normally he has some sense of control over his shape, right now, he does not.]
no subject
Oh, I hate that. I hate that a lot. [Normally he has some sense of control over his shape, right now, he does not.]