Chapter 51
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 50
Is she snooping? Maybe she’s snooping, but she’s never had a daddy before, only a papa and she loves her papa very much and that means she wants to know about his life. Especially when she doesn’t know what to expect. None of her books had anything like this and, well, that means she has no mental model at all.
But she knows her papa and she thought he was bringing her something. She was ready to chirp and wish him a good morning when she, sleepily, could hear him singing. He always sings to her, but the steps went past her room so yes, she snooped in the morning, too. But what else was she supposed to do?
And she didn’t really follow him all the way, not after she realized where he was carrying that mug. She could smell the coffee, so it definitely wasn’t for her, she thinks that stuff tastes awful! And it obviously couldn’t be for mother, but there was her papa, singing under his breath and slipping into her mother’s room with a mug of coffee so late in the morning that she thought she was the last one still in bed.
Daddy was up and at breakfast with her, and that was actually really nice. For some reason, Gregory didn’t show up, normally he insists on making her breakfast even though she can ask the house spirit for anything and then he’d vanish if she goes to work. Maybe he’s shy around Daddy?
But in either case, she could sit with her daddy and help him wake up. She didn’t think anybody was sleepier than her in the mornings, but no, she was so tempted to hold his head up with her hands. And no, not just because that would mean she could get her hands into that nice beard.
But sadly, after breakfast there was business to be done. She unlocked her desk for him and he studied the mean book that had trapped her and Arthur.
He’s so big and the room gets warm when he’s sitting close, and she just felt terribly cozy somehow with him there. But he was clearly worried and that also made Papa worried when they discussed the book. She didn’t hear everything, they didn’t do it in the study and John gave her a look when she clearly was tempted to eavesdrop on them, but she didn’t need to hear everything.
Daddy and Papa are worried about hunters and Daddy didn’t plan to be here for long anyway, Papa pulled him right out of his own life. A life with lots of hunters apparently and no, Daddy doesn’t want to be a hunter anymore, but apparently he’ll stay with them to keep her safe. He wants to look after his sugar doll. That’s her, and it’s so silly and sweet of him.
So here she is, snooping from a window when her daddy leaves again in the afternoon. She doesn’t want him to leave, really, she likes having a family. She’s been alone for so long, now she finds she wants only more people around her.
But she gets it, she had to let Papa go so many times, she knows how to dull the pain and fear. She has long learned that there’s no other way to live than in the moment. And she’s wondering if her parents agree with that, because her mother is kissing both men. Really kissing them, to the point that Darcy feels indecent for snooping in addition to a bit embarrassed.
But best she can tell from up here, being too far away to really smell anything, neither Papa nor Daddy mind at all. Papa is smirking, he doesn’t do that with others, she’s a bit jealous, she thinks, but also so happy for him.
Then she’s worried for him because he’s so slim compared to Daddy and Daddy is hugging him so very hard! She hopes that Daddy doesn’t break anything in Papa. Her papa is so bad at noticing that he’s hurt but then, her mother would look out for him. That’s what a good wife does for her man, uh, men! Yes, that sounds right, that feels right. The books didn’t teach her about this, but clearly, it’s the right thing to be good for the men you care about…
So maybe she’s being good by taking care of both Gregory and John? She’s still so unsure, but John has been nothing but good to her, always there, always talking to her, always trying to understand her, always supporting her. No, she can’t believe it’s wrong to be good for him. Not when clearly, Papa and Daddy are good for each other.
Just… John and Gregory don’t act like them and she’s not sure what she feels about that. But for right now, she just focuses on the bittersweet look on her parent’s faces when Daddy swings up onto his horse and rides off.
It’s not a particularly nice day, it’s grey and it looks like it’ll start raining any moment, but Arthur’s still glad he decided to head out to the paddocks to sit on the fence and watch the horses for a bit. The soft sounds of their tails swishing and ripping grass are relaxing, and the closer the official wedding comes, the more he wishes it was over already. The looming pressure of it makes him wish for the days he could just spend in his lab or the library with no pressing issues.
Not that there’ve been many of those, come to think of it. There’s always the next thing- balls and monsters and tenants who need things and all. He wouldn’t quite trade barony life for his old one, he knows better than that, but… he wouldn’t mind if it was just a little simpler.
Around the corner of the house, he can hear voices- Darcy and John, and they’re laughing, and also there’s barking. He wonders what they’re doing, but he wouldn’t want to intrude, and he likes watching the horses, after all.
The horses are unbothered by the racket, even when a small, brown shape darts under the fence and into the paddock. It’s a dog, Arthur realizes after a moment- it has tattered, floppy ears and a limp, but that’s not slowing it down much, and it looks very happy with a big branch in its mouth.
Darcy’s and John’s voices come closer, and Arthur turns his head in time to see them round the corner, faces flushed with laughter and the November chill. “Aw, fuck!” John says, but more amused than upset, “go, wolf tackle that puppy before he gets himself kicked in the head!”
Darcy gives a happy chirp that turns bark right in the middle as she turns wolf mid-run, while she’s still in the shade from the building, speeds up faster on all fours than she could on only two legs. Her tongue lolls out of the side of her mouth as she jumps over the fence to a whoop from John. Moments later she’s a tumble of fur and excited barking with the dog.
~~~~
“Oi, didn’t mean for both of you getting kicked!” John laughs, then leans on the fence to watch Darcy play. She’s so much happier like this, her drac showing, her soul showing, yeah, he gets it. And she’s beautiful like that, too.
~~~~
John’s a good ten or so yards down the fence from him, but Arthur can still tell that he looks… happy? Yes, he thinks that’s the right word, he looks happy as he watches Darcy. Which is… Arthur decides that’s good. He remembers how Darcy said that she was also with John, so, yes… he should look happy looking at her, right?
“They don’t seem in much of a kicking mood,” he calls over to John, nodding at the horses, who are barely lifting their noses out of the grass, giving the wolf and dog tangle an unimpressed look, and going back to grazing.
~~~~
“Good for them! My girl bites!” It’s said with another laugh as John walks over. Of course Darcy told him that she declared him the Godalming in this generation, and he’s still smug about that, only more so because she was very fast to pull a face and say that of course it’s not as if Gregory is anything like her papa, but that John would get what she means.
Sure he does, and he refuses to hide. Instead, he gets comfortable next to Arthur and yells at Darcy to be gentle with the pup, that leg still isn’t fully healed, not everybody’s got her constitution.
That has Arthur look between John and the puppy. “…Does he need healing? Or, uh, she?” he asks. “I can heal animals, too, if that’d help?”
Turning slowly to him, John blinks a few times. “Well fuck!”
Yelling louder at Darcy to come over, he grins at Arthur. “You are in for a lot of work. Did you ever visit the hospital? Darcy has a menagerie of injured animals. She’s going to cry on you for the help.”
“Uh… hospital?” Arthur asks, confused.
John has the urge to facepalm, those two are a disaster at communication. But he isn’t going to give away that he’s better at it, guys aren’t supposed to talk much. Instead, he points his thumb at the dog in Darcy’s arm as she comes over. “That’s a stray from Whitby. One of dozens. Darcy brings them over when she finds them or when they come to her and are injured. She asked the house for a little hospital over that side. She’s read all her papa’s books and Seward also helps when he can, but if your magic works on animals, fuck, some of the lost causes might pull through.”
Darcy overhears the last part and her eyes grow huge. “You can help? Oh Arthur! I’ll get you anything you want, but please, please help my friends!”
Arthur sits up straighter on the fence at John’s words- almost wobbles for a moment with the speed of his movement. “Of course I can heal animals! I’m happy to, show me! You don’t need to give me anything,” he adds on to Darcy, holds his hand out to the puppy to sniff.
~~~~
It takes an effort for Darcy not to jostle the puppy with how much she wants to bounce, so she is grateful when John takes it, after a moment so it could sniff at Arthur. Then she grabs Arthur’s hand and pulls him along, doesn’t even look back, she trusts John will follow, and that Arthur won’t stumble.
He can help, he can help!
That makes her so happy. She hates when she can do nothing more than sit next to some of her friends and try to make them comfortable as they die.
The cats come to her, so do the mice and rats, the ones nobody ever cares for. They are her night friends as much as the snakes and foxes. It’s harder for her to catch the injured birds, they don’t trust her like her night friends do, but they still are animals, and she doesn’t want them to hurt.
~~~~
It takes a quick jump off of the fence for Arthur to keep his feet, and he definitely doesn’t have time to heal the puppy right then and there- but given the shiny eyes and wagging tail, it doesn’t seem to mind. As he follows after Darcy, Arthur hopes that him not knowing about Darcy’s animal hospital didn’t mean too many animals died that he could’ve helped.
Darcy’s animal hospital, it turns out, is a whole building. Arthur doesn’t know whether it was some sort of outbuilding that was converted, or whether the house made the whole thing from scratch, but now it has pens and toys and all in the front for the animals that are doing better, and in the back, where Darcy leads him, there are more pens and cages, these with thick fluffy bedding for their occupants. There’s small ones for rats and mice, large ones for dogs, and everything in between. Despite the clear care in their accommodations, it doesn’t take away from the misery hanging around the area.
Darcy only slows down when she arrives at the hospital, takes the time to softly tell some puppies in a pen that John’s going to bring their friend back in a moment, but then leads Arthur to the closed off section in the back where it is warm, plush, and quiet.
There are none of the sounds of the front, none of the occasional barking and the scuffling of movement. Her shoulders sag and she turns to him with a pleading expression. “I can’t do anything for them but make them suffer less while they die. Arthur, please.”
Arthur straightens his spine. “Of course! I’ll do everything I can!” He looks around, and decides on trying to help the rats first- there are three of them, and they’re so small, they’re probably the most fragile. They don’t even stir when he approaches and rests his fingers on their fur- they just keep shuddering softly, their eyes glazed.
He’s never healed something so small, and so it takes him a moment to realize what is happening- at first, the spell works like normal, there and gone, but it doesn’t collapse in on itself, even though it doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything anymore. The ‘cup’ it fills up feels full- except, it’s a really small cup, he realizes, and there is the tiniest trickle of magic still running into it. Constantly running into it, because whatever’s wrong with the little rat is still happening.
So he ends the spell consciously, frowns a little, looks at Darcy. “Is it… poison, what’s wrong with them?” The rat he healed at least lifts its head, whiskers twitching, sniffs around.
With tears in her eyes at seeing her little friend able to lift his head again, Darcy nods, complains bitterly that humans are so mean, always trying to poison her friends. So many of them here are poisoned. So many of the cats and dogs eat the poison, or her dead rat friends and then they suffer, too.
Arthur bites his lip, and apologizes- he can’t heal poison. He can… heal them in the moment, but the poison is still there, and it’ll make them sick again, he can’t neutralize it or anything…
For a moment Darcy deflates, sniffles, then narrows her eyes and, instead of Arthur, addresses her little friend. “I’ll bring you something that’s real gross and I’ll have to clean up after you lots, but then Arthur can heal you afterwards and the bad thing will be all gone. Okay?”
Arthur nods. “If you can get the poison out, or… or if their bodies can get rid of it, I can…” He perks up. “I can heal them periodically, keep them alive until the poison has run its course!”
~~~~
“Exactly!” Darcy agrees enthusiastically with him and is already bustling to find more newspapers and some of the laxatives her papa had given her for her hospital. She had to copy the instructions for John because he insisted that he can read English and those notes supposedly weren’t… well, sometimes even her John is silly.
Handing Arthur the notes about strychnine so he can figure out how often they’ll have to do this, she thinks through which of her patients she doesn’t believe are poisoned. Oh! Of course, the poor cat!
Setting the newspaper and bottle down again, she waves Arthur over to one of the crates and tells him to please not be mean to the kitty, even with how she looks right now. It’s not her fault she has mange this bad.
~~~~
Arthur’s glad enough to put those notes aside for a moment- he recognizes that… distinct handwriting from those letters they found all the way back months ago when they first got to the castle, and it was hard enough making out an address in it.
Instead, he follows Darcy, and looks in on a very sorry-looking cat. Sorry-smelling, too, because that’s a very unpleasant, sweetish-sick odour coming off of her. He can just about see that she is black and white, but she’s so badly off, her fur gone in large sections, with welts and scratches and bare patches all over her, and where she has fur, it’s dull and clumped together. Her ears and the rims of her eyes look scabby, and she’s nothing but skin and bones. The smell makes him wince, but he steps close anyway.
“Oh, the poor thing!” He reaches in, slowly, to offer her his fingertips to sniff, but she barely stirs- too weak, he thinks, and so he rests them gently on her abused forehead, focuses through the stench on healing her.
~~~~
While Arthur does that, Darcy talks gently to the cat, carefully runs a finger over the parts she’s learned don’t hurt when she pets them. Noticing that the skin is oozing again a bit, she cleans the cat up with a smile and tells her it’s alright, it’s not her fault, she’s still a very nice cat. And this is Arthur, her dear friend. Will she be friends with him, too? With a giggle she adds he’s a mage, maybe he needs a familiar, she should ask for the position, she’d do great once she’s just feeling better.
~~~~
With the cat being a bit larger than the rats, Arthur can feel the spell taking hold better. It still doesn’t take long before he can see the scratches closing, scabs falling off, leaving behind faint scars but healthy skin. She’s still too thin and half bald, and Arthur thinks a bath would probably be best to wash off the gunk, but her eyes are clear, and she sits up, bumps her nose against Arthur’s hand with a hoarse meow, and he finds himself smiling at the cat- it feels so good to help someone. “You’re very welcome,” he tells her. “Um, would she be okay having a bath?” he asks Darcy. “I don’t know if it’d be good for her to swallow that stuff…”
That makes Darcy giggle, she’ll complain, she’s sure but yes, if Arthur sees to the other patients she’ll start in on giving her a bath. Would… would Arthur want to give her a name? Darcy looks at her feet as she pets the cat more. In the beginning she named everyone, but that made it only worse when they died. Arthur gave this one a chance at life; it’s only fair if he gets to name her.
“Um…” Arthur says, looks down at the cat again. Now that she has some energy, she’s looking rather… imperious. “…Katharina, maybe?” he offers.
“Katharina it is!” Darcy chirps then gives Arthur a soft smile. “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You are a good man. I hope you know that.”
Of course, that makes Arthur blush, a lot. “Um… I try?” he offers. Since he’s not sure what else to say to a compliment like that, and Darcy being so sincere and grateful and all, he says: “…I better heal the other rats, they’re so small…”
~~~~
Nodding and thanking him again, because she loses them so often and so fast, Darcy waits until he’s turned around and still hesitates for a moment longer before asking him softly when his birthday is so that she can throw him the biggest party. He doesn’t seem to know that he’s a good man, so she’ll have to show him.
~~~~
That makes him stop, and blink, and turn around in surprise. His birthday? He’s not sure what that has to do with anything… and a big party? “Um… we kind of already have a big thing… It’s, um, the 19th, when the wedding is…”
He blushes, not sure why. Maybe because he can’t remember anyone every asking him when his birthday is? He thinks if he didn’t have a head for numbers, he might not remember it himself… and mostly, this year, he remembers it because, well, every time he sees the date of the wedding he’s reminded, that, right, there’s also that.
Her mouth falls open and she stares at him before making a high-pitched sound. “Arthur Jonathan Lancaster! How could you not tell me that earlier?! Now we planned the silly wedding on your big day! No! I’m so sorry! No, I won’t have it! John! Come over here, we need to start planning a big dreamscape party for Arthur right away, we have so terribly little time!”
“Uh… sorry?” he squeaks out, not sure what he did. He should’ve told her? “But… the wedding’s important? Way more important…?” he offers.
~~~~
John pats him on the shoulder, he knows that tone of voice on his girl, she’s about to stomp her foot and then put it daintily down on Arthur. Metaphorically speaking, of course, but he still always loves when she forgets to be shy and instead lets that drac of hers bark freely. Now if she would just do that with Gregory, he’d be so happy, but that’s a very petty thought and he won’t be that kind of guy.
~~~~
With crossed arms, Darcy tells Arthur that no, her silly official wedding is nowhere as important as his birthday. She said her vows, her papa gave her away (why is her voice cracking at that?), so there, she could have signed that contract (why is she rubbing her fey shackle now?) any day!
“Arthur-dear, you are the only brother-in-law I have. Your birthday is the day the world gained a wonderful person. It is the day I want to show you that you are special, that you are dear to me, and that your existence makes a difference in the lives of the people around you.” For a moment she falters, worries that’s too far, but then stubbornly barrels on. “Your birthday is the day of the year where I can show you that you are a gift to my life as you’ve just proven with helping me here.”
~~~~
His blush is back, with a vengeance, and he ducks his head, squirms, not sure what to do with her saying so many nice things about him. He doesn’t feel special, though of course he wants to be… “…Thanks?” he squeaks.
He should say something better, something more eloquent, but he can’t think of anything, and he doesn’t even know what he feels about her saying all that, except embarrassed and awkward and kind of pleased, so… “I, um… I like to help?”
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Seeing the tiny encouraging nod from John, Darcy smiles at Arthur and tells him that’s great, but that doesn’t make it any less precious to her. “You didn’t tell me about your birthday in time, so now you have to tell me, no holdbacks, what you would really, really like as a birthday gift. I’ll make it happen.”
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‘A horse!’ his mind supplies, and that’s ridiculous, of course- that’s way too big, and there’s all sorts of consequences and complications and what not, and why would he even think that? No, he needs to think of something sensible, like… “Um… a book on horses?”
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John snorts before Darcy even starts tapping her foot and pouting at Arthur. He knows that that answer so isn’t going to fly with his girl.
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Pulling out the first syllable of Arthur’s name long, Darcy keeps glaring. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Try once more. The truth this time, please.”
Arthur shoots her a sideways look, squirms some more, and mumbles: “…A horse…? But that’s ridiculous!” he tags on immediately after, gives her an imploring look. “That’s way too big, and I don’t know how to take care of one, and how to ride one, a regular one, I mean, and… and stuff!”
“Thank you.” She goes so far as to hug him, because clearly this needs a lot of convincing. “You have two weeks to learn, then. You learn fast, so it won’t be a problem! Now please wash your hands before you touch my other friends to heal them. Katharina’s problem is infectious, I think.” With one more happy smile at him, Darcy goes and starts in on the planned cat bath.
John chuckles and whispers at Arthur. “And that’s that. End of discussion.”
~~~~
“But…” Arthur blinks after Darcy, then gives John a helpless look. “But…!” His own horse? That just can’t happen! That’s… that’s the stuff of childhood dreams, like going sailing to islands with pirate treasure or exploring distant lands or stuff- it’s not things that happen in the real world.
“You want to try to convince the dhampir baroness it’s an unrealistic wish?” Still chuckling, John punches Arthur on the shoulder. “So, Treasure Island theme for your birthday party, or do I start building something else than islands and treasure for you to explore?”
“…She’ll really get me my own horse…?” Arthur doesn’t think he’ll believe it until he sees it- and maybe even then. His own horse? To pet and to make friends with and to go riding? Remembering Darcy’s words, he heads over to where he can see a sink and washes his hands, but his mind isn’t on his motions. His own horse? Really? Really really?
Oh, and, right, John asked him a question… “Um… that’d be nice? I mean, if you don’t mind? I mean… last time, you were kind of not feeling well, so, um… only if it doesn’t remind you of that…?” He ducks his head, gives John a shy look, but, well- he doesn’t want him to be reminded of it…
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For a moment, John isn’t quite sure, but that display of emotion is probably okay for a guy, so he allows himself to start laughing. “Dude! My name’s John Silver. It’s on my fucking official papers from Darcy. Really think I mind?”
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“Uh, right…” Arthur says, feeling silly now. “I suppose that should’ve been a clue…”
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“Eh. You should worry more about the clues I’m sure Darcy will come up with for you getting to hunt down some treasure on the island.” The laughter turns smile on John’s face, because he can so see Darcy marching through his dreamscape, sniffing all over the island as a wolf to figure out where to put things.
He’s looking forward to it, then realises something, and he hates not being as true to the original as possible so he grunts at Arthur. “Hey, can I take a closer look? I don’t have a full model for you yet and you’ve not taken that bracelet thing off since that fucking book swallowed you.”
~~~~
Arthur blinks down at his left hand and his shielding bracelet on it. “Uh, yes, well, apparently I can get surprised without it even here behind the castle wards… Um, what kind of look do you need?” He dries his hands and moves over to the rats, because he really wouldn’t want one of them to die because he was distracted talking about parties and treasure hunts and things.
~~~~
“Just use your right hand for the healing and hold the left up so I can see how the light reflects off that thing.” John offers, then answers Darcy’s request that sure he’ll feed the puppies. Ducking out of the room, he’s back only moments later with a young puppy in the crook of an arm and a milk bottle.
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Arthur can’t help but break into a smile at the sight of the puppy- it’s fluffy and it has such big paws. He nods to John’s suggestion. “Oh, if that’s all, sure.” He holds up his left hand as instructed, and concentrates on healing the rats.
And it’s so nice to see them go from shivering misery to at least twitching their whiskers. One even nibbles on a piece of lettuce when he nudges it closer to it. He figures them getting something in their system to dilute the poison can only be good.
~~~~
While Arthur does the healing, John feeds two more puppies and keeps updating his dreamscape model of Arthur after taking looks from every angle. Yeah, that’ll do, and he smiles at seeing Darcy’s little friends clearly improving.
He didn’t miss the smile on Arthur’s face at seeing the puppy either, so once Arthur is done with the healing and has washed his hands again, John elbows him lightly. “Hey, here, last one of the bunch.”
Holding the puppy out to Arthur, he makes sure to still support it correctly. He always wanted dogs when he grew up, he won’t admit that he totally gets how excited Arthur is about getting a horse, Darcy is just that fucking amazing at making dreams come true.
Arthur perks up. “I can?” He takes the puppy carefully, copies the way John is holding them.
“Sure, you can. You’re part of Darcy’s hospital crew now. You get the nice parts with the parts that suck.” John nods encouragingly at Arthur, not quite a smile, that would be too mushy, but it’s true, then he explains how to hold them safely and make sure they get enough to drink from the bottle.
Arthur listens carefully, and smiles down at the puppy as it drinks, those big paws almost hugging the bottle. “You are really very cute,” he tells the little bundle of fur and big, dark eyes. “And, um… I haven’t really noticed any parts that suck, yet… I mean, I guess sometimes you can’t help, that sucks…”
“I’ll put you on shit cleaning duty then,” John jokes before grinning. “The house does most of that. It can involve seriously long hours though. That puppy’s mom was very weak. Darcy slept down here two days to make sure she didn’t miss the birth… and managed to at least save the puppies.” Hesitating again, John doesn’t want to come across as weak, but he hates nothing more than his girl being sad, so he says it anyway. “You can help with the dying. I really appreciate it.”
“I’m just sorry I didn’t realize there was something to help with earlier!” Arthur says immediately. “I like healing.” He looks down at the puppy in his arms as it sucks out the last of the milk in the bottle. “…And I like animals. They’re… well, they’re generally nicer than people.”
“No shit.” That’s all John’s going to say on that topic, he remembers hated hours in the kitchen at events and hearing all the gossip and vitriol. Even the ones that present as nice can stab you in the back and not a single one would have supported him, he’s sure of that.
Shaking his head and punching the memories back to the past where they belong, he nods to the front room. “Let’s put that one back, make sure everybody’s got enough movement in, and check if you can heal some smaller issues, too.”
~~~~
Arthur nods, more than happy with that suggestion.
He ends up with the rats in a bundle under his jacket. They’re just too sick for him to be comfortable leaving them alone in the hospital. This way, he can always keep an eye on them, and feel if they’re getting worse right away.
Darcy is really very happy when he suggests it. She hugs him and thanks him again with tears in her eyes.
That makes him rather embarrassed, and he blushes, of course, and assures her it’s no problem. They are warm little lumps against his chest, and that’s actually rather pleasant. They’re cute- he just hopes they won’t run away once they feel stronger, but before they’re fully healthy. But Darcy tells them he’s safe and they can trust him, and for the moment, that seems to work.
Of course, they get lively six hours later, when he is about ready to head to bed. So he’s heading down the corridor with three rats crawling around his shoulders when he meets Gregory.
Who is in cat form. And gives them a very fixed stare. With his haunches lowered and his tail swishing. His whiskers spread in a cat-grin. “Artie! You brought me dinner,” he quips.
And all Arthur can think of is how grateful Darcy is, how much she cares about her little friends, and the soft little weight of the rats, and their hurt and misery, and how happy he is to see them more active even if he’s worried they’ll run away, and how he’s spent half of the day giving them little taps of healing every half hour.
His mind flashes with an image of them, broken and dead dangling from Gregory’s mouth, lying between his paws, and red-hot, anxious denial floods through him.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” he rasps, cups his hands over the little bodies clinging to his shoulder. Their whiskers brush his fingers and palm, sniffing, maybe sensing his agitation. “Don’t you fucking touch them!”