[ Peter really wishes Gamora would stop looking so cautious, because it’s kind of making him a little nervous. But, well, maybe he’s just projecting? Maybe he’s just making a whole big deal out of nothing. Maybe the brusque attitude of the Guard had just been a personality thing. Maybe that guy was just an asshole, who had been attacked earlier in the day by some unrelated entity.
Whatever’s in the crate is silent, though Peter thinks he hears a rustle of movement before it goes still again.
Taking a deep breath, he gives Gamora a quick nod to signal her to prepare herself for... whatever the hell might happen. Carefully, painstakingly slowly, he eases the top door open, and—
... Nothing flies out, which is a good sign. Just as carefully, just as slowly, Peter winces peeks into the box, muscles coiled in case he needs to reel back, and—
He blinks.
Then, he barks out a laugh – equal parts surprised and pleased. ]
What the shit.
[ And he quickly waves Gamora over. An old, worn towel cushions the bottom of the crate, and atop the towel is a familiar little twig, curled up and dozing away. ]
no subject
Whatever’s in the crate is silent, though Peter thinks he hears a rustle of movement before it goes still again.
Taking a deep breath, he gives Gamora a quick nod to signal her to prepare herself for... whatever the hell might happen. Carefully, painstakingly slowly, he eases the top door open, and—
... Nothing flies out, which is a good sign. Just as carefully, just as slowly, Peter winces peeks into the box, muscles coiled in case he needs to reel back, and—
He blinks.
Then, he barks out a laugh – equal parts surprised and pleased. ]
What the shit.
[ And he quickly waves Gamora over. An old, worn towel cushions the bottom of the crate, and atop the towel is a familiar little twig, curled up and dozing away. ]