"Yes, Glacius," the double barks, irritation rising in him as he fights to urge to just stuff the notes carelessly into a bag. He has to make this look at least a little believable. "More."

The rabbit meanders back into the bedroom and clambers his way onto the bed to pick at some of the coiler on the nightstand. Wondering if Armand would drink an animal's blood, the double keeps moving, tossing some of his original's journals into a box to take with him.

"And that's preposterous," he continues once he's got enough, hefting the box and taking it into the den with him to start getting some plants. "I may be grateful for your help, but I'll not have people believing something like you could you possibly have that much meaning to a human like me. It's disgusting."