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[servantsservant]

*is human again!* *and a bit confused, as she doesn't remember anything at all about the time she spent being otterish*

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[thefoodoflove]

*wanders in, kitten in tow, scratching it beneath the ears* *smiles at her* Ah, my bride; how art thou, my sweet, that thou so wrinklest thy sweet nose?

Typist: ...is Hamlet's brain damage contagious or something?

[servantsservant]

*smiles (kitten,eee,hehasthekitten)* I am well. Yet there is something of strangeness in the day.

[thefoodoflove]

Ay, a touch, a touch. *pets the kitten once more and then offers his free hand*

[servantsservant]

*takes it with a little sigh-- a happy one-- and yet, she is suddenly very conscious of the lingering taste of fish in her mouth, which is surely on her breath, and is silent*