[lincoln pokes her sleek little head over the edge of the table, giving goodsir a very waterfowl-esque look of approval at the mention of napping on books – and, her lettuce done, hops down from the chair and begins waddling around, examining the surroundings. she seems mostly to be a normal duck, but periodically the light hits her feathers or eyes in a way that makes them appear – serpentine, almost, gleaming like scales.

koby watches with open fondness, reaching out his socked foot to stroke along her back when she gets close enough (an act lincoln pauses for, fluffing up in enjoyment), then smiles up at goodsir, more warmly.] So am I. Any ease I may have is all an act, I promise. At my core I’m nothing but teeming anxiety, so…consider the playing field level.

[then, as lincoln toddles over to examine goodsir’s feet instead:] I don’t regret them either. They were very, ah…enlightening. [another sip of tea.] As I might’ve mentioned, I’ve never really, um. Engaged in that sort of…scenario. [siiiip.] I wasn’t sure how I’d react.

But it was nice. It – felt nice. [blushing deeper now, setting the tea cup down on the table.] I agree in mutual clear minds, though, in case…just in case. The last thing I want is to have any time with you be upsetting, Harry, on either side.

...or for either of us to drown. [koby huffs out a laugh as lincoln settles down, her chin on goodsir’s foot.] That’d be a very embarrassing way for two sailors to go.