“Jaguar should concentrate on his own clothing,” Victor says with a small smile. “Or lack thereof. Personal remarks are rude, after all.”
It’s decided that she’ll be getting a full anesthetic — she seems ready to drop off again anyway, so it’s probably for the best. One gets the anesthetic and administers it. So yeah, you don’t have to wake up anytime soon, Alia. And when you do, your foot should be stitched up.
“Jaguar has clothes,” Alia argued hazily, “He’s got a nice, pretty coat. It’s all soft and fluffy too…”
As she says this, she hugged her stuffed tiger, shifting a bit to get comfortable again. As soon as she’s given the drug, she’s right out. Deep in sleep, a peaceful look on her features again. Let’s just hope her body won’t reject it, form being put out so many times.