With a sort of bite that Cassius is still trying to puzzle out, if he is being honest. Hieronymus Singh has been nothing but kind so far, much kinder than the rabbits that had prodded at his room’s glass. Doctor Hugh had described him obnoxious. A show-off. Neither of them kind descriptors.
The words themselves and Hieronymus Singh’s tone is why Cassius does not repeat them. Merely settles for, “Doctor Hugh had told me that you are a friendly sort -” he emphasizes it with a curl of his fingers that lace together a moment later “- and I am pleased to know he is correct.”
Cassius pauses, looks back to the crowd. Has to hold back the anxious squirm of him as the voices grow louder. He told Doctor Hugh he would try to restrain himself, and oh, he is trying.
“Very well, Friend Singh,” he says, dragging his eyes away back to his new human friend. “If it causes you discomfort, then I shall not address you as Hieronymus, however pleasant it may sound.” And it does. Sound pleasant. Rolls off of Cassius’ worm-stuffed tongue like a melody, like a poem. Friend Singh has that in common with Doctor Hugh, he thinks – not liking the prettier parts of themselves. Parts that Cassius himself is fond of.
His shell does a little roll as a sharp tone cuts through the air, his worms shifting tighter, seams rippling, but not tearing.
no subject
With a sort of bite that Cassius is still trying to puzzle out, if he is being honest. Hieronymus Singh has been nothing but kind so far, much kinder than the rabbits that had prodded at his room’s glass. Doctor Hugh had described him obnoxious. A show-off. Neither of them kind descriptors.
The words themselves and Hieronymus Singh’s tone is why Cassius does not repeat them. Merely settles for, “Doctor Hugh had told me that you are a friendly sort -” he emphasizes it with a curl of his fingers that lace together a moment later “- and I am pleased to know he is correct.”
Cassius pauses, looks back to the crowd. Has to hold back the anxious squirm of him as the voices grow louder. He told Doctor Hugh he would try to restrain himself, and oh, he is trying.
“Very well, Friend Singh,” he says, dragging his eyes away back to his new human friend. “If it causes you discomfort, then I shall not address you as Hieronymus, however pleasant it may sound.” And it does. Sound pleasant. Rolls off of Cassius’ worm-stuffed tongue like a melody, like a poem. Friend Singh has that in common with Doctor Hugh, he thinks – not liking the prettier parts of themselves. Parts that Cassius himself is fond of.
His shell does a little roll as a sharp tone cuts through the air, his worms shifting tighter, seams rippling, but not tearing.
“How long will they continue like this?”
(How long until Doctor Hugh is safe?)