Adelaide laughs, while the kitten in her lap squirms and rolls to his back so she can rub his belly. The addition of the dog to their little troupe is near comical. "Feels like we're Snow White, singing in the forest and all the damn doe-eyed woodland creatures come out of the woodwork," she snickers, companionably close and not feeling the need to push it any more than that just now. Just sitting and talking with him is so much like the old days that it warms her well beyond the point of wondering just how they collected all these small creatures to protect. Comforts her enough that she can't even worry about it.
When the dog sits obediently, wriggling with excited energy barely contained, she plops down right on Addie's feet. After she's proved she can obey for a moment, Adelaide uses her free hand to scratch behind the dog's ears and grin. "Yeah, you got that right," she agrees, telling the dog instead of Sarge. "Now that I've got him and all, I really think I prefer to keep him. He's pretty damn cute, and he's got all his toes." She has a way of being wry about her son, like he sprung up out of nowhere and she's as surprised as anyone else that she doesn't mind, but always as she says it, the love of him comes through loud and clear no matter how her dark humor sounds.