“She says she’s a genet.”

The sleek daemon nods and, once Virginia’s been scruffed, gives her tail a wave and a flick, as if to show off that she hasn’t been scuffed. Neither human nor daemon knows what to make of the compliment or the prairie dog lust. Both raise an eyebrow of sorts.

“I would’ve thought some sort of dog. Bulldog or mastiff. Just because sometimes I make tunnels doesn’t mean I’ve got a naked mole rat soul.” The genet is a weird one; he must’ve seen it at a zoo in his life, but it looks like something that would get used as an “alien” in an old B-movie.”

He’s not sure what he would’ve guessed for Dan. This matching game is evidently something he’s terrible at; a ferret wouldn’t have been on the list.

Urukáme turns when KREB goes off again; Ric doesn’t want to. “Help with what? It’s not like we can fix someone’s soul. They have to convince it to shut up.”

“Good luck with that,” Urukáme says quietly, but loud enough to be heard by more than just Julio.

“Yeah, but you’re not a creeper shouting about how you can touch the world, Urukáme.”