"What's wrong?" He asks, as she squirms and giggles, wriggling around like an eel out of water. He's not certain what's got into her, but then it becomes clear. "Hang on, are you ticklish?"

He hadn't actually ever wondered what having a tail felt like. Hers seemed to almost act independently to her, as if it had a will of it's own. It certainly seems that way now, as it twitches in his hand. But it's whisps are so soft, he doesn't let go. Just absently brings his other hand to it, stroking over the soft fluff at the end.

And then, absently, strokes it over the back of her neck.