"Canines lick." She mutters, remembering well the assault by one poodle not long ago. "It is charming but it is...messy."

And they smell of dog breath or whatever it is they've been rolling around in. Remi, on the other hand, smells of ink and elfroot and a little bit of lavender. It's what comes of spending his days mostly draped on Adelaide. Perhaps Anders was right. This is her cat.

Getting her to admit it, now...

"Of course you do." Adelaide means to resume writing or reading or...working. But she only manages to find a fresh book to hold in her lap while she inevitably dozes, head tipped to the side, hair curling around her face.