After a moment of scratching, Doc slitted her eyes closed and began to purr, loudly. She tipped her head forward, urging his fingers toward the back of her skull, and flicked an ear.
Jarvis settled cross-legged on the floor, as he scratched Doc behind her ears. “Much less of a pest than this one, aren’t you?” he observed wryly, glancing down at Boris. As if on cue, Boris squirmed his way out of Jarvis’s hold to sit on his shoulder, front paws on the top of Jarvis’s head.
Doc darted away when Boris moved, eyeing the otter narrowly and lashing her tail. When Boris made no further moves, she deigned to creep back, headbutting Jarvis’ hand insistently and offering a tiny, squeaky meow.