"Short for parachute cord. Nylon rope with a little bit of stretch in it." She holds up one hand briefly, showing him a bulky and not all that attractive bracelet that's made of about twenty feet the stuff and a wooden ring and toggle that are keeping it on her wrist. This is function, not fashion. "This is paracord. You looked like you might be an outdoorsman. Camper or hiker. Sorry for assuming that something crazy smart was coming." At this point it seems entirely possible that Natasha will be giving Major shit for the entirety of the time she knows him. Still, that smile hasn't gone anywhere. She's not trying to be mean.

Minor objects to the twenty five percent reduction in petting, and she goes back to it. "It's grown beyond the official use, which is of course in parachutes. I was thinking that, because of the give, it might do for a temporary harness. The nice part is that it can then be taken apart, adjusted, rewoven as he grows. Means there's no wasted resources. If you don't have any, we can use this." She probably wouldn't be offering if not for the fact that she has more at home, but he doesn't have to know that. At the moment, it's not a strain to use some on a dog. If it ever becomes a strain, well, she'll deal with the ill will of having to take it back when it comes up.