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"He is my soul animal. I got him twenty minutes ago."

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"... Okay."

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"Try to keep up."

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"You didn't know what he was, either."

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"I admit nothing."

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"I am somewhat tempted," muses Adams, "to name my soul animal 'Jeff.'"

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Savir giggles helplessly.
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"Inspired," drawls Corva.

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"Pass. I'd rather not be called 'Jeff,'" says the thylacine.

"Pity."
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"Uhhh.... Hold on, I've got this. Name, name, naaaame..."

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"I'm sure that saying 'name' over and over will help with that."

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"It will, actually, shush."

Savir rubs his temples. "Naaaaaaaaaaame..."
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"Are you quite sure you're sane?" says an amused Adams.

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"Yes! Well, maybe, I might be a bit off the deep end but it's part of my cha- nevermind! Silence your face, not-wife!"

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"What, all of it? All at once?"

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"Yes. He means all of it. You may not blink, breathe, smile, or-"

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"Aha! Got one! Varlan. Varlan the - dog... thing."

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"Sure, why not," sighs the thylacine. "It's better than Jeff."

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"Behold, our naming prowess."

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"Hurrah."

It occurs to them both that they could ask each other's life stories - but that would mean they'd have to tell their own. Neither of them particularly want to, and neither care enough about the other's to ask. They can make conjectures.

Either way, they get along quite nicely. Babysitting will actually be viable now, though she'll take some time before heading home. She likes talking to her alt, and her alt's husband.
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