[It's only for an instant, but there's something that flickers across Toby's face. He might not have been able to see it if not for the increased acuity of his vision, but as it is he's gotten pretty good at reading microscopic twitches of muscle, minute changes in expression that give away emotion. He's also gotten pretty used to the idea that most people don't appreciate it when he can read them like this, so he pretends he didn't see anything at all.]

That sounds like it's quite a story. I have a cousin who's kind of like that, but his father's the god of death, so it comes with the territory.

[What's the point in hiding it? It's not like there's anyone from home to be annoyed at him--there hasn't been in years, and he's given up on that changing. At least the little plant creature is pretty cute, nuzzling at his palm just the same way that Jason used to.]

Mrs. O'Leary has met a couple cats, but definitely not one shaped like a rosebush. For that matter, I'm not sure she's ever been on a car ride, either. [With his free hand, he rubs her head, which makes her whine happily and nuzzle against his side.] I inherited her after her first owner died. As far as we know, she's the only friendly hellhound in existence. And, before you ask, I have no idea how she got her name.