Natasha moves her hand to the top of her head, manages to get two of the three bits of foliage out on her own. "Oh. I don't know if I'd say preocc--" Minor, his timing staying true to form, licks Natasha's face mid-word, managing to get his tongue in her mouth. Not the worst kiss she's had. An elderly Finnish diplomat comes to mind. It's more surprising coming from the puppy, though, and briefly derails her train of thought.

Only briefly, though. It circles back around rather quickly. "So..." She points at the man. "Major." Then at the puppy. "And Minor? Really?" She honestly can't decide if it's cute of incredibly narcissistic. The puppy, meanwhile, has noticed that there are now two people down close to his level, sitting practically knee to knee, and that a simple flop and roll just might encourage them both to pet him at the same time. Freedom is all well and good, but love and attention from people? True doggy bliss. Natasha obediently scratches her short nails gently back and forth across Minor's belly.