That whole apocalypse thing going on outside? Shephard's only peripherally aware of it. When you share your room with nine alien puppies and one very hungry alien puppy mama, a lot of your attention is going to be perpetually elsewhere. That includes today. You see, the pups were born about three weeks ago, and while Shephard's not entirely clear
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"Hello, Shepherd."
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"...Hangin'?"
That 'g' disappears kicking and screaming.
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Are Quite Adorable, Though, In A Strange Way."
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"Are They, Um, Okay To Interact With?"
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"Hello, Little Ones."
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The inquisitive one draws a soft smile from Kanaya, and she offers a luminescent hand for inspection.
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"They ain't got much of a sense of smell," Shephard notes, "but they c'n see real good, and they got a hell of a sense of hearing. Mouth's on the belly, so's you know."
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"You Are Quite The Brave One," she says, addressing the small creature.
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"Probably gon' name that one Grace," notes Shephard. "She's allus pokin' her front end into things, tryin' to see what's goin' on. Friend of mine knows a woman like that, name of Grace."
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