They like me when they're not coming out of someone else's wretched memories. Even most of those liked me.

And they don't shed, but I can't promise they won't drool.

[ Leave them in your room, he says, as if the hound would be the both of theirs and suddenly Crowley can't tell if he's warm and content or overheated and claustrophobic with the idea of that. Shared pets is moving a bit fast, isn't it? Maybe they should start with a houseplant or a kingdom.

Quickly, he picks up his fork and shoves move cheesecake into his mouth. ]