( His hand alights on Kyle's shoulder, gentle but firm, pulling him back. Rita can sense the threat in him, the danger baked into Kyle's body language, and it's keeping her feral. It doesn't have to be like this.

Of course, it would be easier to assert himself in a more respectable way if he weren't hopping on one leg. He uses that hand on Kyle's shoulder as a crutch, and with practiced movements, bounce-staggers his way in between his close friend and his close... dragon. )

Hey, hey, hey... shh, easy, girl. It's Kyle, remember? You love Kyle.

( Rita snarls — but then sniffs the air suspiciously, her eyes narrowing at Kyle's face, her foaming, bared teeth leaning in a precarious foot or two, closer, closer, to stare him dead in the eyes. )

It's okay- it's okay. ( This is meant for the man behind him, confident and soothing. ) Just give her a second, just don't- do anything. It's okay, I promise. I won't let her hurt you. Just... remind her who you are.

( It's not that he can control Rita, necessarily — not in any way more secure than a really compelling suggestion she may or may not follow — but he can get rid of her. He knows that, somehow. He can feel it. If he had to, he could pull her out of this reality entirely. He just doesn't want to have to resort to that. It feels... wrong. Bad. Like betraying your dog by sending him to the pound, or something. )