Katters hums contemplatively. “Is that a normal sort of sound for rabbits to make?” she asks. “And the following, that seems weird, too. Mind you, I don’t know rabbits from a hole in the ground, but I’ve gotten the impression they tend to be very shy and flighty.”
"....nope. Then again, for all we know the thing is sizing us up for dinner. Things aren't exactly like they are back home, Katters." Red shrugs.
The 'rabbit' chirrs again, mouth splitting into four segments as a long probiscus flopping out much like the tongue of a panting dog.
Surprised, Katters side-steps away from the rabbit, turning as she does to face it. Her kit is in front of her, but it’s not a shield — yet. “In that case, I definitely wouldn’t eat it.”
“Well, that’s new,” Katters says. She side-steps around the rabbit, in the original direction they were heading, then continues heading that way.
"If you say so. I'll probably be able to find another patch of fruit in an hour or so, if you can hold on? I mean, we have the vending machine food, but..." Red shrugs. "...you alright?"
“Who, Zebra?” Katters looks up at Red. “‘Friend’ is a strong word.” She counts off on her fingers: “Roommate, co-worker, accomplice — something more like that. But what do you want to know?”
"Well... you hang out with him, right?" She shrugs. "I mean, like. Things you have in common? Or just. Conversation?"
“Sure, we live together.” Katters refuses to put that one in the past tense even though there are two compelling reasons why she should. “I dunno, we got similar senses of humour, tastes in fiction, stuff like that. We can shoot the shit as well as anyone.” She considers. “Honestly, we fight more than anything else, but it’s a comfortable kind of fighting, you know? It’s like a hobby.”
“Sometimes. Sometimes real fights, sometimes the fights are somewhere in between and neither of us really know how seriously we’re taking it.” She grins. “We’ve made a game of it, where we try to — to hurt each other, and the person who gives up first has to make dinner.” It’s not something she usually talks about, any of it. It’s not the sort of thing that healthy, well-adjusted people get.
