Cassius looks to Friend Singh with an ever-calming shell, worms piling under the faint warmth of his palm like they are starved of it. The squeeze that follows is one that slots Friend Singh firmly into Cassius’ good graces.

(Perhaps even just behind Doctor Hugh himself. When has a human ever touched him so without the influence of a monster? Never, never.

Before his Hunter and he had appeared here, on this ship that sails through stars, they only had each other. Now they have Doctor Hugh, and once Cassius introduces him to his Hunter, they will have a Friend Singh, too.

Cassius really is lucky to have found himself here.)

As quickly as the crowded tension had reached a boil, it disperses just as fast, much to Cassius’ relief. Allows Doctor Hugh to come back to him in impatient strides, and he takes a stuttering step to meet him, one hand automatically reaching out to Doctor Hugh’s arm before he thinks better of it. Lets it drop to his side instead.

“Yes, Doctor Hugh,” comes Cassius’ answer, warm in ways he is not. The smile he feels does not reach his face. “I am alright. I have even made a friend of Friend Singh. He is not afraid of me like the others are.” A small, happy roll of his shell that softens as he glances over Doctor Hugh’s shoulder. “Has it all been settled, Doctor Hugh? They will not - vent our Hunter?”

(And it is our, now. The Hunter is as much Doctor Hugh’s as they are Cassius. As much as he is Doctor Hugh’s and theirs.)