"Your--oh, um--yes, I--" Right, trousers, good idea. Feuilly puts Lady down without ceremony and goes to rummage in the dresser, mind racing. Right. Flu. Hallucinations. Harry thinks he's-- "This really is your room. But you're, um--there's a, a sickness going around--" Wait, that's not reassuring at all. "You'll be fine! Here, these are yours--" He hands over the least disreputable set of Harry's clothes that he can find.
(By now Hector is up too, and snuffling at his face. But the human smells like he's supposed to, so there's nothing to get excited about, at least not more excited than one generally gets about the humans waking up, which means breakfast, which is always an important part of the day. Hector eases himself down from the bed and click-clicks over to the place where breakfast happens, and sits. And waits.)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-03-02 11:42 pm (UTC)(By now Hector is up too, and snuffling at his face. But the human smells like he's supposed to, so there's nothing to get excited about, at least not more excited than one generally gets about the humans waking up, which means breakfast, which is always an important part of the day. Hector eases himself down from the bed and click-clicks over to the place where breakfast happens, and sits. And waits.)