He holds very still for them! And has warmth and scales and soft hair!

His hair is soooo soft. Annisetimara resists the urge to outright ask to pet it.

Then he will be oblivious to her hair-petting urges.

Eventually: "If you wanted to be able to touch--part of me--without risking it breaking, we could, like, comb my hair out over a flat surface and you could pet it without any bones under to give way if you're not careful enough."

...he giggles. "That would be silly. And - not what I want."

"Okay. What do you want?"

"I want... to hug you, properly," he says. "And I'm afraid if I do it I'll break you."

"That is a problem," she nods. "I can't really think of any better options than just practicing not breaking stuff."

"Yeah. I can - do that."

Aaaaand she loses the battle to temptation. "Meanwhile can I pet your hair? It's super soft."

He laughs.

"Yes, all right."

Hairpets! Soft soft soft soft soft.

So soft. He closes his eyes and smiles.

"This is nice," she says. "It's been kind of a long time since I've been able to hug someone."

"Yes, same with me," he says wryly.

"Yeah," she sighs. "Two thousand years is a lot more than twelve."

"Yes."

Slightly sad, pensive hug.

Holding-still-for-hug.

Eventually she lets go and returns to the viewing pool.

It still has so many things!

Such things!

...Eventually her stomach decides to remind her that she hasn't eaten since breakfast.

...Tarakova laughs.

He goes to the wall and opens a door that wasn't there a moment ago; it leads to a dining hall, where the palace has already seen fit to provide lunch.

She beams at him and walks through. ...Is everything him-scaled, that seems like possibly a logistical challenge...

Nope, the doors and walking spaces are but the seats at the table are her-scaled. ...which means he kind of can't sit down to lunch with her.