"No, no, I'm not - I'm not sick," he murmurs, soft and patient. He reaches up to grab Herbert's hands, holding them and tracing little circles on his palms with his own short, blunt little claws.

"Healing from...what living like I was did to me. The way people treated me, the things they told me, over and over. It hurt me, and it's...taking me time to figure that out. Being here, with you, it's...helping me. That's what I mean."

Biting his lip for a moment, he realizes - "...If you... want, I can show you, I think. What I mean, how it feels, just for a second, so that you can really understand. It just might not be...very pleasant."