The rain was coming down leisurely outside the window.

The lightning would turn the whole overcast sky white and then there would be sound. Somehow, now that he was concentrating on it and trying to listen to every rustle, he reacted more expressively. He liked it.

Oak exhales softly, trying to remember the name of the thing you're fiddling with. The cat continues to purr softly on his lap.

"How’s yours… fish fingers?" he raises one eyebrow, pouting his lips. His ear twitches a little.