Brand's got a hand buried deep in the white fur on his daemon's neck like he's trying to scruff a dog that weighs as much as a preteen. All four of the dog's feet are still on the ground though, and the swishing of her tail indicates that she's indulging him rather than actually being hauled anywhere against her will. Brand makes eye contact with South and rolls his eyes so hard that it involves everything above the nose and below his hairline.

"She won't stop talking to people," he explains. Complains. The dog swishes her long tail even more vigorously.

"Hello South," she says. "And South's daemon. I'm Fiona, you can call me 'Fi'."