"They do that," Kira agrees, glad that if he must make contact with the villagers in this state, at least it isn't very fraught. He can do meet-cutes with friends of friends over mutually saddled pet-parentage. Earthquakes and possible threat of zombie viruses, not so much.

It's a cute dog, as far as Kira can tell: despite having one for most of the last year, he's not much for them. Aurora is the beautiful and talented exception, who spends most of her time herding Bodhi into some semblance of a routine and chasing bees.

Talented: not intelligent.

He keeps his crouch to hold her around her shoulders, enduring her reoriented affections as they lick and nip at his jaw. "It's a little odd, how safe the place seems for them. But I guess they're engineered by whoever's in charge, why waste them in a fight with a badger." It's a little odd that they get dogs and cats, that they get gifts at all--that they're here. But after nearly a year, he's fixated on--the lack of pet injury.