“Okay, come on.” Ghost coaxes you gently, watching as you sit cross-legged on your chair and peer up at him.

At the kitchen table, with a couple of common objects set out in front of you, it’s obvious that Ghost is trying to teach you how to speak. How much he is succeeding, on the other hand, is not as obvious.

You’re not really listening at all, partially tuning him out as you fiddle with one of the props — this one being an apple. It’s clear that your mind is set: you don’t want to say the fruit, you’d much rather eat it.

Ghost notices you practically drooling over the apple and swiftly plucks it out of your little hands before you can take a bite. “Ah, ah. No. If you want the apple, you have to tell me what it is first.” he waggles his finger in your face, his expression turning to one of confusion as he looks at you again. “And why on earth would you be hungry? You ate ten minutes ago. Is your stomach just a bottomless pit? Or is it just a puppy thing?” he chuckles and ruffles your hair.

“Just say ‘apple’, and you can have the whole thing.” the man promises, grabbing a plate and cutting knife from one of the kitchen drawers in order to cut it into slices for you. Ghost picks up a piece, holding it in front of your face as if in a bribing sort of manner. “What is this, hm? Can you tell me?”