She wiggled her ears. "And I'm hopeless at lying. My ears and tail always give me away."

  "I can see how that would be a problem," I commented, eyeing her wiggling ears. "Having physical tells that you can't control."

  "Yeah," she sighed. "Made poker night at Will's Wheels a complete disaster. Lost two weeks' pay before they finally took pity and stopped inviting me."

  I chortled and continued brushing, methodically working through her lush coat.

  “So,” I asked. “Were you actually cold last night?”

  Her ears tilted back, tail momentarily pausing its motion.

  “I just… wanted to be closer,” she confessed. “Fell asleep for a moment and had a dream that you weren't real, that you were just going to melt into a puddle of mushrooms. So I relocated closer for a snuggle to fall back asleep.”

  “Freaking knew it,” I chortled.

  She huffed at me.

  "Hey," Nessy said suddenly, twisting to look at me. "Your drawing last night. The one of me that... did something."

  "What about it?"

  "It feels like pack-stuff to me," she said. "Like, I can sense you through it somehow. And you can sense me through it, right?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Feels like a twenty fifth hand.”

  “Not third?”

  “Way, way removed,” I said.

  “That just means we need to make the concept and the art stronger,” she said. “Reinforce the pack! That’s what I’ve been doing by the way, if you haven’t caught on.”

  “And here I thought you were hitting on me.”

  "Why would I hit on you? You're already my Syn-pack leader! That's waaaay more substantial than any romantic dating thing between two humans or a relationship between a random prad and a human," Nessy huffed, her ears swiveling backward briefly.

  She dug through the pile and pulled on an oversized dark shirt and spun to face me. The shirt sat on her like a dress. She looked simultaneously ridiculous and oddly charming, the tourist logo "WELCOME TO LAKE WINNIPESAUKEE" stretched across her chest.

  “Aight, brush the mane now,” she said.

  “Sure,” I said, proceeding to deal with her curly, long hair. “So… umm… How do relationships work between different types of prads? Or between pradavarians and humans?"

  Her ears perked up with interest. "Oh? Curious about cross-species dating, are we?"

  "Just trying to understand your world better," I replied a tad too quickly. “I mean that’s where we’re going eventually, right? Pradavarian Ferguson? Wouldn’t wanna get there and act like a clueless idiot.”

  "Uh-huh," she said skeptically, but continued. "Well, it's pretty common actually. Humans date dogs, dogs date humans. Dogs date cats and feathery raptors too, though that usually ends in some kind of drama. Small town pradavarians tend to stick with their own kind more, but city types mix freely."

  "And is it... I mean, how does..." I fumbled, uncertain how to phrase my question.

  "How does what?" she prompted, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

  "Well, how does it work with the... physical differences?" I finally asked.

  "Ah," she nodded sagely. "You're wondering about the logistics of interspecies intimacy. Verrrry scientific inquiry."

  “Yes.”

  She laughed at my expression. "It's actually pretty straightforward. We're all compatible in the ways that matter.”

  “And kids? Interspecies kids are a thing?

  “Yep.”

  “Are prad-human hybrids a thing?”

  "Nope," she shook her head. "Genetics don't work that way. A child is always fully one species or the other - the DNA doesn't mix to create hybrids. It's more like... certain genetic markers get activated or suppressed."

  "So a dog and human couple would have either fully human or fully Pradavarian children?" I asked.

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  "Exactly," she nodded. "But with subtle influences from the other parent. Like, a human child might have sliiiiightly better sense of smell or marginally better night vision. A Pradavarian pup might have better abstract thinking. It's the small stuff that carries over, plus hair and eye colors.”

  “I see,” I said. “So, circling back to the Syn-pack. What are you expecting of me, exactly?”

  Nessy turned to face me. "Leadership. Direction. Purpose. Thinking. Plotting. Brainstorming. That's what I need from you as my pack partner. Dogs are team players - we're not meant to be making all the decisions. You set the goals, I help us reach them. You choose the path, I watch our backs. Partnership!"

  "Feels like I haven't done any leadership," I commented. "You picked to go to Ferguson, you got me to wash and to brush you."

  "'Eh, you're still a bit of a clueless pup when it comes to your role," she said. "I'm dragging you back into the pack by my metaphorical teeth because that's what both of us need to survive Systemfall. Just like I dragged you out of the water back when we were kids."

  As she leaned closer towards me, I stared at the angel wings pattern on her forehead.

  For a moment, I could almost feel the cold quarry water filling my lungs, the panic, the darkness—and then those wings reaching out through the suffocating gloom grabbing my shirt with teeth. Then there were paws. Hands?

  Hands pulling me to the shore. Hands striking my chest to restart my heart. Mouth closing around mine, giving me the kiss of life, breathing air into my lungs.

  Her yelling. “Breathe damn it! I can't lose you! Breathe!!!”

  Inhale, exhale, heartbeat. Opening my eyes to look at her tear streaked blue eyes.

  What the fuck. That’s not what happened.

  I blinked.

  “Are you doing… something to my head?” I demanded, shaking the vision away.

  “Hum? I’m not doing anything,” she said. “Just talking about important stuff. Our mutual goal is to reinforce the pack as much as possible by any means necessary, to make it unbreakable.”

  As I considered her words, something dark stirred in my chest.

  “Was your Syn-pack with Pred-Earth Alec unbreakable? Why’d he order you to stay in Ferguson?” I demanded, starting to feel annoyed at my twin from another world. “You’re so… devoted, protective, strong, funny… beautiful, damn it!”

  She blinked at me, tail wagging intensifying.

  “If he’s really me, if he’s made a blood pact with you, known you for so long… If you saved his life that day at the quarry, why the fuck would he… Why would I give up someone like you? Someone who straight up declared their relationship above mere dating?!”

  I ranted on, frustration mounting as I tried to make sense of it all. "You're like this... force of nature. Like a hurricane of loyalty wrapped in fur. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their corner, fighting for them, believing in them. Hell, you crossed literal warped reality to find your friend! That's not something anyone just walks away from. Not unless something was seriously wrong."

  Nessy's ears flattened against her head, her blue eyes widening. "You... you think I'm worth fighting for?" she asked.

  "I think that if I had someone who cared about me the way you care about your Alec, I wouldn't have ended up drowning in a bathtub," I declared, the words spilling out with unexpected, painful rawness. "I think your Alec had something most people would kill for, and I just can't understand why he'd throw it away! Either he was blind, or something really terrible happened that made it impossible for him to return."

  “Yeah,” Nessy let out. “Maybe.”

  “Was your Alec an idiot?”

  “No.”

  “Was he mentally unwell or on drugs?”

  “No.”

  “Was he different from me in some horrendous way that you haven't yet told me about?”

  Nessy's ears flattened even more, her expression shifting to something pained and complicated. "No... but he started to act weird right before he left for college. He became just a touch more distant, harder on me, more commanding. I trusted him with my life, and considered his orders near-absolute." She looked away, her voice dropping. "When I called, he always had different excuses. 'Too busy with exams.' 'Working on a project.' It was like... he became a different person. So smoothly and gradually that by the time I started to panic, it was far too late.”

  I felt a chill run down my spine at her words. Did my older brother's cartel connections find her Alec, threaten him, forcing him to assume a new identity? I tried to picture a cartel with pradavarian thugs on call who could track anyone by smell for miles.

  "Maybe someone got to him," I said slowly. "Someone dangerous. Someone who made him cut ties with his past life, with you.”

  “Maybe.” A low whine escaped her throat. "I should have been more persistent. Should have demanded answers as soon as I noticed the changes." Her claws flexed unconsciously, digging into the mattress. "But I respected his wishes and gave him space, hoping, praying that something would change for the better. I did try to visit once—surprise him, you know?—the campus security wolves said that I’m not allowed into the dorms. I tried to get in regardless and they electrocuted me with z-guns and hit me pretty hard over the head with their batons.”

  Her eyes became filled with tears.

  “I called him from the hospital after they stitched me up, told him about it and he replied that I was being an idiot and that they had every right to hit me and that I should go back home and wait for him to return like he ordered me to.”

  She paused, breathing rapidly.

  “Then… It was like something inside me broke and I just couldn’t push past it, couldn’t drive out again to the city. I felt messed up for a very long time after, and just couldn't get my shit together… until Systemfall.”

  I reached out, pulling her into a hug. It felt like the right thing to do—the only thing to do—in the face of her raw pain. She stiffened momentarily in surprise, then melted against me, her arms wrapping around my middle, face pressing into my shoulder.

  "I'm sorry that happened to you," I said, genuinely meaning it. "I don’t know what could have forced him to push you away like that, but you definitely don’t deserve it.”

  She clung to me, trembling slightly. Her fur was damp against my skin, her breath hot against my neck. We stayed like that for several long moments, the silence broken only by her occasional sniffles.

  Eventually, she pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her paw. "Look at me," she said with a forced laugh, "getting all emotional again, when I should be your support doggo. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “Let's go see if maybe we can locate some cold breakfast or something, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”