"Thanks." Noah turned on the tap at the sink, pushed his sleeves up as high on his arms as they'd go, and began washing up. The soap stung sharply, and he grimaced a little. When he finished, he patted himself dry with a handful of paper towels. None of the scratches were deep enough to require medical attention, but they smarted.
Glancing up at May when she returned, he said, "No, he doesn't travel well, and when a cat of that size doesn't want to go into the carrier, well. I should've brought home a pair of the elbow-length heavy leather rose gauntlets we use at the botanical gardens. Would've been useful, eh?"