Runt of the Litter

Huh...

I imagine weather's very hard to predict.

It's too quiet.

Quiet can be a sort of nice thing, though, can't it?

"I'm sorry,"

Doyle had simply been walking through, happening on the accident by complete chance. He saw Garrett - a man he'd only heard about through hearsay, mostly from Belle - and felt immediately anxious. Still, it seemed best to stop and see what the matter was. He looked upset, for whatever reason. "I-I-Is something th-the matter?"

"I did it! I finally did it!"

I— Never mind…

Well i-i-it must be something if you're so upset!

I give up...

Th-there's no need to give up! What's wrong?

I have no idea!

W-well that's very silly of whoever it is..

Yeah that’s not normal at all. If you want to go to sleep i could just you know hit you over the head with something preferably metal. Put you right to sleep.

Sweetheart, you’re going to need something stronger than milk.

U-u-um no. I-I don't drink, if that's what y-you mean. N-never have.

Oh....Well....

Wh-who's leaving them?

I-it's up to you! I just don't mind i-if you need it.

It’s not that bad. Take a walk, get a drink. Dull the senses, numb the anxiety. Whatever it takes. It seems to be the norm.

I t-tried drinking milk. L-like usual, b-but it didn't work. I don't ha-ave anxiety, just some d-difficulty.

Occasionally!

Q-- um... Quite the contrary, actually.

Around here, it’s pretty much a requirement.

Well then t-this is my first night of meeting standards.

I have the cutest song in my head!

Y-y-you sing?