[Not a single one. Which is exactly why Lup's already curling in around Fiddleford, an arm slinging over his shoulders, dragging him under the quilt with her so she can share her chilly scales with him.]
Not a one. [Her head tips up against his, affectionately.] Especially the moody ones.
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[Not a single one. Which is exactly why Lup's already curling in around Fiddleford, an arm slinging over his shoulders, dragging him under the quilt with her so she can share her chilly scales with him.]
Not a one. [Her head tips up against his, affectionately.] Especially the moody ones.