"Poor little guy," Damian mutters, unlatching the stupid plastic tube from ridiculously small pet cage, guiding a little rodent into his cupped hands. Nervous, afraid. Tail tucked and fur partially missing. "Tt, just because 'dumb' is in the name does not mean you should treat an animal like a toy."

It's not directed towards you, but rather your shared classroom. The dumbo rat in his hands was a class pet, curling to his fingers and letting his fingertips pad over its back. You haven't touched it yet--and you're unsure if you even should, watching how carefully he treats the being.

"Do you not like rodents beloved?" The boy beside you questions, tossing the devastating cage onto his bedroom floor. He's never been a fan of those tiny enclosures, and it's more fun for humans than the pets living in them.

"Do you not like his tail? Look at his little face." Askew whiskers and chipped comically large ears. Yes, it's cute, but its clear the children taking it home each week prefer the rat as an ottoman rather than a responsibility.

Damian is lucky the teacher chose him for ratcare this week. Perhaps he could convince her that the rat passed in his care and he'd keep it in secret, because if he returns the rat on Monday he is sure his excuse won't be a lie any longer and in fact, a truth.

"We will care for him, and build him a new home." So much for a boy who hates everyone, he's got a heart for critters one-quarter of his size.