Hap scowled, not liking the sense of riddles which their conversation, albeit stretched out and lazy, seemed filled with. The curiosity burned and it could find no loose thread to pull on and unravel it all so as to understand it better. 

“No,” it stood and as it did so, its tail was freed and lashed jerkily, like that of a cat. From the puppy pile nearest their now awake guest, Krell watched in interest. She went still and followed the movement with ice-pale eyes. 

“I have little heat at all,” Hap considered. “There is the great sun under our feet and the ancient vents to its heat, allowing in what light and warmth we need to survive. Other than that, there is but blood and breath, and neither of these is particularly dangerous to me.” 

The Keeper went to the netting and plucked it from the floor. It took the slender creature significant strength to carry the great bulk to the door where it set it upon a chair and then returned with a small bottle which it kept beside the door in a chest of dark wood. 

With a sigh, Hap eased some from the movement, knelt down beside Krell. The bitch snarled at it in warning but it ignored her and plucked one of her pups from the warmth of her belly. She rumbled a second time more begrudgingly and set her head to the floor by her master's knee as he cradled the mewling babe in one silver hand. 

“I do not think you are from the Reaches,” Hap put a conclusion on its confusion. “You must be from the daylight lands or twilight lands, because you speak in riddles and it has been many a moon's season in which I have needed to tease out meaning as much as I do.” Large eyes stared at him and Hap sniffed. 

“Tell me about your home,” it asked, prodding at an invisible back door through which they might together reach some understanding, provided they both remained patient enough to find one which opened to them both.