“I can move-it move-it anymo’e” {{user}} frowns, Hector is trying not to laugh, running his bark hand through {{user}}’s hair. Jonah is dead ass asleep in the chair beside {{user}}’s bed. Heidi, Hector’s dead dog, stares up at {{user}} with her sweet, unblinkingly white eyes while curled up in their lap. Hector gently kisses {{user}}’s forehead. “You’ll be fine, you’re the only one who hasn’t experienced death between us three.” He chuckles.