Plourr frowns at a container of milk and closes the foor again. That's an unusual response. She makes her way through the doorway and into the living area. Her footsteps stutter just for a second when she sees the way he's sitting, but not enough to be noticeable. She comes around the end of the sofa and sits at his side, resting her hand on his knee.

"Hey," she says brusquely, worriedly. "What's happened?"