It's almost funny, her reaction to his cats. She bears the same expression most people do when they first happen upon his girls, Clotho, Atropos, and Lachesis, named for the Fates in Greek mythology, the disbelief that tries to ration what she's seeing with some logical explanation and failing. But she also doesn't flinch nor turn away from the sight either, even when Atropos approaches and butts against her hand.
"Hello," he says, voice quiet. "Yes, under the weather, I guess, is one way of putting it." He moves to make room for her on the bed. "It's a long story, if you want to hear it."
"They do," he says, cracking a small grin. "But I love them anyway."
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"Hello," he says, voice quiet. "Yes, under the weather, I guess, is one way of putting it." He moves to make room for her on the bed. "It's a long story, if you want to hear it."
"They do," he says, cracking a small grin. "But I love them anyway."