The way that Lissar's very few items of furniture have been arranged are so that someone outside the window (a truck, for instance, or a crouching robot) can feel like he's part of the scene inside
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Nobody here can translate canine. That's alright, WHEE WHEE WHEE WHEE WHEE sounds pretty much the same for all one-month old babies, of any species. The bigger fleethounds occasionally roll a puppy away from Ace's hands for petting, or just roll the puppies to play with them, and Lissar beams from the kitchen.
"What would you like to drink, Ace? I have lemonade, or can make tea."
"Lemonade's fine, s'warm enough here t'not need hot drinks." What? Ice tea is an abomination forever. Besides, there are tastier things than tea to make cold. Ace has a puppy on each arm, and is letting another crawl over her head.
She is, and she also has adult fleethounds trying to squirm into her lap. All fleethounds are cuddle-sluts.
"I do not know if Ironhide will be joining us." Lissar says cheerfully as she brings the bowl of popcorn and the drinks out, "But I shall sit on the window's sill regardless. Chair or floor, whichever is most comfortable for you."
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Longer than that.
Much longer.
Currently, Ace is fully involved in a game of 'pounce' and cannot be reached for comment.
So sorry.
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"What would you like to drink, Ace? I have lemonade, or can make tea."
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Ace is hopeless, yes.
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"I do not know if Ironhide will be joining us." Lissar says cheerfully as she brings the bowl of popcorn and the drinks out, "But I shall sit on the window's sill regardless. Chair or floor, whichever is most comfortable for you."
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