#just pet owner things

[this-fine-day]

Sometimes your pet falls asleep on you, and you end up going into hibernate mode to save battery.

[foxys-left-foot]

I love my dog so much omfg

I will literally insult him to HIS FACE and he will just look at me with THE dumbest innocent look in his eyes, wagging his tail

BUT

Whenever he sneezes I say "big sneeze from the little man!" he looks at me like I have just insulted his entire bloodline

[redhead4eyes]

I love my dog to pieces, but I have never wanted to throw hands with him more than the time I came home to him pulling stuffing out of the arm of my couch.

[ganondoodle]

actively fighting a full blown panic attack born out of sadness and anger after having to drive by yet another victim on the side of the road

it makes me livid how accepted it is to just let cats suffer and die disgustingly horrid deaths and live awful short lives just so what, for what?? so you dont have to play with them for an hour a day??? when i was little it was just kinda normal that they disappeared at some point, i didnt understand what it actually meant until our outdoor cat i loved dearly was found in the bushes near our house in a condition so horrible my dad has never told me and i have never dared to ask, she only made it to 6 and had horrible scars and infections before that i allowed my family to convince me to let my first own cat outside, we only had her for a year, she died at only 2 years old, i am still suffering from the guilt, it has never let me go, she went missing for a week and i walked the entire vilage up and down every day, yelling her name, wandering into the forest alone, talking to every stranger i met until one morning my mom told me that our neighbour who works for the city asked if we had a white cat with a very specific collar she had- he found her on a busy road crossing in the next bigger city, i never even got to bury her, its haunting me, the thought of her wandering lost and scared in the city for a week until meeting an awful end gives me headaches, the fact that i was the last one to see her alive, that i put her outside bc we were late for school and had to leave quickly, that she had come home with oil in her fur from crawling through maschines and cars before, that i was worried but still didnt act, that it is my fault, any time i am up to late its coming back, it will never let me go, if i had stood my ground and not allow her outside unless on a leash or similar shed still be alive today, any time i read a description at our local shelter it comes back, they still advocate for outside cats, all of them, even if they have only been an indoor one before, its madness my older sister had a cat, i dont even know how old he got but it wasnt long either, he got hit by a car in front of their house, she has two now again and the only reason she hasnt let them outside is because they havent shown much interest in it, i tried to warn her before and she didnt listen and shes still resistent, even after losing one too

i have seen so many on the side of the road, anywhere i drive i see them, i cannot forget a single one, we are surrounded by farm land and all its giant maschinery, its still common to poison rodents, why do people value them so little, you wouldnt let your dog just live outside in the woods and streets for half the day or more, you wouldnt just throw your guniea pigs on the road and tell them have fun, you wouldnt just let your bird roam outside, there probably assholes that do that too but you cannot tell me its as common as outside cats

i dont understand it, i dont, i wont, i never will, i will never forgive myself this poor little animal that was my responsibility having to pay the price of my ignorance, or my own weakness letting my family convince me despite the awful way we lost one before, it makes me want to explode it hurts my brain in grief and anger i can barely contain

cats deserve to live a safe and long life, i get only having them inside may feel like you are locking them up, but do you think that not doing so is worth having them die a painful death? being poisonend? on purpose even by disgusting people that hate them? abused and chased by other animals and dogs? hurt and lost? cutting their lifespan in half? if they even make it that far? the amount of wildlife that they kill unnecessarily so when all of that is already in a steep decline everywhere? and if they eat what they hunt get infected with diseases or again, poison? die somewhere in agony? if cared for they dont care about going outside, plenty can be leash trained or given a secure way to roam like those cat proof aviary like things, if you dont want to put effort into caring for a cat DONT GET ONE, ALL pets require adequate care, and if you think cats are the easiest bc you only have to feed them every now and then IF they come home? you suck, you are an asshole, i hate you and you do not care about them, if you just want to occasionalyl feed and pet an animal go to the petting zoo

(this is about pet cats of people who can absolutely afford to keep them healthily inside, i know feral cats and those in poor neighbourhoods are a thing, even if not here where i live, and thats a whole other but still similar problem and not the point of this post)

[meowmiilk]

m too excited to wait til it gets here to post about my haul !!! gonna be lamb dolly c:

[chronicallyonlinedude]

going to bed now with shaky legs and a leaking puppycunt

[spirit-lanterns]

Does Bunny!Reader have to constantly chew on things like a real bunny?

In her human form? No.

In her bunny form? Yes.

Majority of the time she is in her bunny form, she will find something to nibble on whether it’d be one of the HSR women’s fingers, clothes, a random piece of carpet she found, etc. those chubby cheeks are always moving 😌

Those brain cells do not function in Bunny form it seems 😅 many, many times has Himeko, Yukong, or even the Boss, had to scold Bunny Reader and tell her to spit out whatever she’s chewing in her bunny form :)

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang��s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. “Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridescent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

So for those who've probably noticed that I'm going through the old FOP episodes.

Here's something else that I've noticed.

Vicky will be painted as a monster even when she's doing something that's in the right.

Like during Dog's Day Afternoon, Vicky is painted as the villain because she does the responsible pet owner thing of getting her pets de-sexed.

Even though the whole inciting incident of the episode is that Timmy wants to switch brains with Vicky's dog because Vicky treats her pets better than she treats him, or people in general really.

The only pet she really seems to treat poorly is Goldie her Goldfish, because she lost interest in him.

Also the show has the stereotype of animal becomes depressed after getting de-sexed. For this episode.

With all of Vicky's pets that have been de-sexed appearing either outright depressed or just anxious in the case of Chipper the Cat.

Even though research shows that animals aren't really emotionally attached to their reproductive organs the way humans are.

Like they're more likely to be traumatized by the process if you've got a shitty vet, or poor post operative care, than they are by the actual state of being de-sexed.

Not to mention we see Doidle (Vicky's dog) later on in the series, and he's not depressed at all. He's pissed at Timmy and hates his guts, but he's just as active as he was in his debut episode. He goes through a period of "depression" but in reality he's probably just healing from surgery, because he bounces back from that later on.

Chipper's attitude is more in line with a declawed cat than a de-sexed one, Goldie's de-sexing is just nonsensical and is just to make it seem like Vicky does this for fun.

While Ginny's de-sexing is similar, as I've never even heard of someone de-sexing a parrot outside of it being medically necessary. Like due to cancer, or some similar medical problem. Which those kinds of issues are actually quite common in birds. Hell most vets won't even do this kind of procedure on a bird without a medical need for it.

Same for rodents. The vast majority of people who keep pet rodents, don't get said rodents de-sexed, unless there's a medical problem, or they've decided to house the pet in a set up with a member of the opposite sex.

Not to mention, all of this would take money. Money out of the notoriously greedy and money hungry Vicky's pocket, unless she's somehow getting her parents to pay for her numerous animals care and vet bills.

Like why is this show roasting Vicky for being a shockingly responsible pet owner considering who she is as a person?

Not to mention going through the time and money it takes to get an animal de-sexed, especially animals that don't commonly get de-sexed, like a Hamster, Goldfish, and Parrot? Where in you'd have to pay extra, and seek out a vet willing to do so in the first place, meaning you're almost certainly looking for a specialist?

How is it that after going through all the time, and effort, and money, it would take to get all her animals de-sexed, is Vicky then suddenly ignoring her pets.

Like you have to pick one.

Either Vicky is the type of pet owner to go completely overboard and prefer her pets over people.

Or Vicky is an irresponsible pet owner who buys animals to entertain herself but doesn't take care of them properly once she gets board of them.

You can't have it both ways.

[probablygayattorneys]

Congrats on finishing Ghost Trick! How was it?

I cannot BELIEVE I WAS A FUCKING [redacted] THE ENTIRE FUCKING TIME

(More detailed and spoilery review in the tags)

[tyin-cherry-knots]

whoever’s out there saying that girls get crazy stressed over social drama and guys are just chill and don’t care about that kinda stuff has clearly never met my brother bro acts like he’s living in a shitty teen movie like chill out kid there’s no queen bee and no one gaf about the it crowd

[steddie-there]

"Eddie, I need you," Steve says over the phone, a very un-Steve-like tremor in his voice.

That's all Eddie needs to hear before he's shouting to Dave that he has a family emergency, he'll be back later, and booking it out of the record store and across town to the veterinarian. He's never been so grateful to have such a chill boss.

Steve is pacing in the empty lobby when he gets there, one hand shoved in his pocket and the other running incessantly through his hair. He doesn't stop until Eddie touches his shoulder and then Eddie has an armful of Steve, his face buried in Eddie's neck.

He's shaking so Eddie holds him close, buries a hand in his hair, waits for his trembling to stop.

"What happened, Stevie?" he asks and his voice is gentle, as gentle as he can make it, but Steve still curls inward. Eddie rubs soothing circles into his back.

"The hay bag," Steve finally whispers. "I heard it fall, thought it was far enough away from his cage. So I didn't check. But when I walked past, he'd chewed a hole in it and I don't know if he swallowed any and oh god what if he did what if he has a blockage what if -" he breaks off, his breath hitching.

Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead, pulls him over to the chairs. Tucks his hands into Steve's, lets him hold them bone-crushingly tight, lets him fiddle with his rings. Presses their foreheads together and whispers soothingly.

They wait.

It feels like hours but can't be more than 45 minutes before they're called back to a room. Paul is staring up at them from the doc's arms, calmly chewing a piece of hay into his mouth.

The doc smiles, tells them he's fine, no blockage, and Eddie lets out a breath of relief, feels Steve sag against him.

"So he's okay?" Eddie asks.

"Perfectly healthy," she confirms. "Although maybe the tiniest bit heavier than he should be. How many treats is he getting a day?"

Steve furrows his brow. "Just two hay treats. Three every once in a while."

Eddie doesn't say anything, glances down at the floor, scratches at the back of his head. Steve turns his head to look at him. Eddie breaks.

"...he's good at begging, all right? He rattles the cage and then he looks up at me and. He's just. Really cute. And sometimes I give him a couple extras."

Steve bites his lip and his shoulders start shaking again.

"Steve, what... are you okay...?"

Steve bursts out laughing. It's relief and joy and amusement all wrapped into one and it's infectious and soon Eddie is laughing, too, and even the doc is chuckling and Paul is staring at them all with big black bunny eyes.

"Just, maybe lay off the treats a little," she says when they're all just grinning at each other.

"Yes, ma'am" Eddie promises, crossing his heart.

"Will do," Steve grins as he takes Paul from her arms, puts him in his little pink travel kennel.

He turns to Eddie, a gentle smile on his face. "Let's go home."

Later, curled up on the couch, Paul flopped over their laps and the tv low, Steve leans his head on Eddie's shoulder. "Thanks for putting up with my freak out. For being there."

Eddie turns to Steve, kisses the side of his head. "Sunshine, I'd do anything for you. And for this little bastard, too," he says, tapping the white spot on Paul's head. He flicks an ear in Eddie's direction but otherwise doesn't move.

"Even stop giving him extra treats?" Steve asks, a smirk in his voice.

"Yeah, even that," Eddie says as they both dissolve into quiet giggles.

-----

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7

ao3: And Rabbit Makes Three

My real life inspiration behind Paul the rabbit

Also, credit for this idea goes to my roommate @steddiehawkins, who also inspired Eddie giving Paul extra treats since she definitely doesn't give my rabbit extra treats because of how cute he is and how much she loves him. She would neeeeeeever do that 😉😜

[compacflt]

what dog would icemav get?

im guessing no mangy devil chihuahuas or rescues (compacflt can't be seen with anything but a purebreed) golden retriever might be too on the nose, how about a malinois or a german shepherd maybe an english bulldog (ugly)

idk. i don’t really have a dog in this fight (i don’t care) (pun intended). but it definitely would have to be like a Real Dog. yeah nothing smaller than 70 lbs. a Real Dog. other than that i don’t have any opinions. could be a mutt or a rescue! but it would have to be, you know, handsome and upstanding and like, a Real Dog that you can, like, do stuff with. it is very cliche and on the nose and maybe im only saying this bc i, like, don’t care at all about dogs but ice does seem like the white lab/golden retriever guy and mav strikes me as a german shepherd guy. there are many reasons i don’t think they would ever have a dog (what would they do with the dog?) but not being able to agree on the breed might be one reason they never get a dog. arguing and bickering etc

[jacob-blogs]

It's my dream to be a postal worker. I'm not even joking. It's like. Goals. I heard postal workers can escape poverty question mark

Oh hold on fellow anon, you have no idea.

I'll say it like this: I'm not paid enough by the USPS to be make a sponsored post about how amazing working for the beast is. I hit 140 hours on a single paycheck (2 week period) as recently as last month. It's a crazy experience that is also one of the harshest and most competitive environments to work in. And yes, due to our contracts, postal workers are more than capable of escaping poverty well before they hit a career/employee position.

I've been told countless stories from my coworkers about being able to afford healthcare for their loved ones, being able to supplement the income of their families that are on social security or disability and can no longer work, and even sending money to other countries (Jamaica, Haiti, Chile, Puerto Rico) to support their friends that are also working but cannot afford things like electricity or transportation.

I myself have a savings account, which I NEVER had working full time in retail management.

While I resent myself for sacrificing my social life and mental health (and to some extent physical health) for the beast that is the United States Postal Service, I'm genuinely happier for establishing a career for myself in what is arguably one of the more ethical social services in America.

[mocksart]

narrator: this little thing doesn't appear to be sentient

stanley: writes a big ol FUCK YOU on the floor of his cage

narrator: i retract my further statement. not only is 427 sentient, he's a little shithead who clearly needs more challenging tests

Lmao! If only it were that easy!

Stanley purposefully obscures the fact that he can understand the narrator, so that the man will continue to underestimate him and hopefully slip up, allowing Stanley to escape.

He's worried that proving otherwise will cause the man to tighten up his security measures.

I'll admit that in this au the narrator starts out pretty dense. He's been in his own head so long that it's hard for him to see past his own biases. And he gets caught up in trying to achieve certain results to prove a point to his former colleagues.

The tragedy is that his actions at this stage have very little to do with Stanley, and are much more about his own issues and insecurities. But Stanley still takes the brunt of the "damage", as it were.

Of course, the borrower isn't doing himself any favors in that respect. He's scared, sure, but he's also stubborn and bitter at having been caught. So, no, narrator, he will not be completing your maze. And he'd rather break your little puzzles instead of solving them.

And of course, this frustrates the narrator to no end, further blinding him to the large issues at play. And so the cycle continues.

[wolfeyedwitch]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

— — —

The only thing Charles could think of was sympathy for the poor vampire. He couldn't imagine being as hungry and yet so afraid as they were.

They were clearly starving, yet they were so hesitant to take the clearly needed food.

And when they finally did eat, he saw just how ravenous they really were. It scared him a bit, and then he immediately felt bad for feeling so. It wasn't their fault they were like this, or maybe it was, but that was still no reason to fear them.

When they finished, he tried to school his expression and not look so disturbed, but then he probably looked too serious, because the vampire trembled slightly and pressed their forehead to the floor.

"Well, now that that has been taken care of, I should go over house rules and my expectations for your stay."

He went on to explain that he encouraged them to move freely about this room, but to not go outside of this room without supervision. The door will be locked anyway, but he didn't want them to try.

He told them that starting tomorrow or the day after, he'd start to show them around a bit and get them acquainted with more of the house, but not give them full access until everything is settled.

He told them he was still looking into what the best feeding schedule would be and that he'd appreciate feedback. He told them he found starving distasteful and swore that they'd be kept very well-fed. It just a matter of finding the right blood and time of day to give it to them.

He told them that receiving them had been a surprise and so he didn't have any real plans for what to do with them. But he promised they'd be taken care of no matter what.

There was just one last thing he needed to go over with them, but this one was the one he was most unsure how to phrase.

"Now, I don't know how much you already know about me or my business. But I am a painter, and my main muse lives with me. He's... he is like you, in many ways, expect he is not a vampire. He means a great deal to me, and his safety and comfort are some of my primary concerns. You will be likely not meet him for a while, but when you do, I just ask that you try to get along and respect him. I will be asking the same from him. But, I believe that is it. Do you have any questions? I'm not sure if you're really able to speak, but perhaps you could gesture or write?"

Masterlist

CW: internalized dehumanization, it as a pronoun, nonverbal whumpee

---

The vampire was painfully grateful that its new owner deigned to explain the rules to it. The owners that did so, even those with the strictest rules, were better than the owners that said nothing and still punished it for breaking rules it didn't know existed. This one's rules were.... strange, to say the least.

Apparently, this was to be its room. It was allowed, encouraged even, to move about as it pleased within the room. Its owner said he would take it around after it "got settled". (It was trying not to think about all the things that could mean.) He said he would feed it, on a regular schedule, and even asked for it to give feedback? It was having trouble accepting that.

The troubling part was what came at the end of his explanations. Its presence was a surprise to him; that much it had surmised, given how he acted upon opening the box that contained it. The part that was a surprise was that the man already had a pet. Or maybe a muse? The owner called him one thing, but the description sounded like another. The dissonance was jarring.

Whatever he was called, the vampire's new owner already had someone filling the only role it was suited for. It was not only an unexpected gift, but an unneeded one.

It had no purpose here.

That realization sank in just as its new owner was asking if it had any questions.

How...?

It couldn't speak. Words were for humans, not vermin. And its hands had been purposefully broken (first as punishment during training, then later as entertainment for its owners) far too often for it to be able to write, even if it dared to try to claim the written word rather than spoken ones.

Gestures, then. It would have to figure out a way to communicate, given that this new owner wanted that of it.

It didn't know how to express the myriad of questions it had. Questions of his motives, of the other possible-pet, of what would become of it. But asking what it wanted to know wasn't the only question its owner set forth; he had also asked if it was able to communicate.

Slowly, cautiously, making no movements that could be considered aggressive, it unfolded from where it had pressed its forehead to the floor in supplication. It peeked up from under its lashes at the man; when he displayed no outward displeasure at its movement, it continued.

It put one hand over its mouth and shook its head. Then it slowly extended its hands, displaying and flexing the crooked fingers that refused to close into fists, and shook its head again.

Then it dared to look up at the man, meeting his eyes again. It dipped its head in the slightest of nods.

I cannot speak. I cannot write. I can gesture.

It had to hope that he would understand.