[ He's light, like this, the way a bird's hollow bones are. Not enough moths.
Her touch is uncomfortable, but not as much so as the examination. She's not trying so aggressively (oh, nothing about hew outward behaviour could be described as aggressive but she thinks relentlessly) to try to understand how he works, to make him exist in the same place as human logic and rules. He moves outside, some of his weight on her, and positions himself awkwardly in a chair.
It's- nice, the early morning. Sun on his face, but air still cool enough to be soothing to his aching everything. He stares at the toast a few seconds, then places his hand near the plate, looking up at Lisa. There's a silent question there - can he take a slice? ]
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Her touch is uncomfortable, but not as much so as the examination. She's not trying so aggressively (oh, nothing about hew outward behaviour could be described as aggressive but she thinks relentlessly) to try to understand how he works, to make him exist in the same place as human logic and rules. He moves outside, some of his weight on her, and positions himself awkwardly in a chair.
It's- nice, the early morning. Sun on his face, but air still cool enough to be soothing to his aching everything. He stares at the toast a few seconds, then places his hand near the plate, looking up at Lisa. There's a silent question there - can he take a slice? ]