Once he had finished his meal, Snowball finally pulled away from the bottle and licked his wet little whiskers with contentment, purring as he curled up against Isabelle's chest for warmth. His fussiness immediately washed away with a warm bottle of milk.
He yawned drowsily, blue eyes glazed over with tiredness, before shutting his eyelids entirely to enjoy his nap.
Which was good. It seemed he was getting used to the idea of dynamically changing surroundings. As nervous as he'd been during the thunder storm, seeing him relax now and trust her enough to sleep peacefully made her smile.
Isabelle cradled her snowy furball and leaned back against the plush back of the seat she was in, humming to herself happily and enjoying the soft comfort of the couch she sat upon. It was certainly softer than any chair she'd sat in during her last life.
"Thank you," She smiled in appreciation as a servant held out a bowl of soup to her.
