[Something else, Steve says, and Giorno raises an eyebrow but otherwise doesn't question him. Maybe that's due to a different in life experience, though. After all, even back home, if a cat suddenly turned out to be a Stand and attacked him he wouldn't be that surprised. Steve's confusion is weird, but he's had his own moments of "surely that innocuous thing is about to murder me in cold blood". Like, last week probably. And cats are malevolent beings anyway. It's fine.]
Mm. Riley told me . . . she named him after the tree, so I did the same.
[Alder is, of course, bigger than Maple, with longer fur and a greater glint of madness in his eye. They look fairly similar otherwise, but it's hard to know with cats. So Giorno hums.]
They could very well be. Apparently the bugs have a small colony that they care for. I was worried about it at first, but they seem to genuinely do a good job providing for them, even though they're so bad at figuring out what humans are supposed to eat. [Priorities in order, he guesses.] Honestly, there's no way to know if he and Maple are from the same litter, so I've just decided that they are because it's nice to think about it that way. They get along well when I bring him by.
[Despite their massive difference in temperament, they have some things in common. For example, the way Alder zeroes in on Steve's ears moving, his eyes becoming black pools of devilment. He's quickly distracted by the noise, though, and stomps closer, sniffing the air, until he puts his paw on Steve's knee unceremoniously. Attend to him.]
[Giorno just regards this interaction fondly for a moment before adding,] The bad manners are probably my fault. I'm accidentally inducting him into a life of crime. It's up to you to be a good influence.
no subject
Mm. Riley told me . . . she named him after the tree, so I did the same.
[Alder is, of course, bigger than Maple, with longer fur and a greater glint of madness in his eye. They look fairly similar otherwise, but it's hard to know with cats. So Giorno hums.]
They could very well be. Apparently the bugs have a small colony that they care for. I was worried about it at first, but they seem to genuinely do a good job providing for them, even though they're so bad at figuring out what humans are supposed to eat. [Priorities in order, he guesses.] Honestly, there's no way to know if he and Maple are from the same litter, so I've just decided that they are because it's nice to think about it that way. They get along well when I bring him by.
[Despite their massive difference in temperament, they have some things in common. For example, the way Alder zeroes in on Steve's ears moving, his eyes becoming black pools of devilment. He's quickly distracted by the noise, though, and stomps closer, sniffing the air, until he puts his paw on Steve's knee unceremoniously. Attend to him.]
[Giorno just regards this interaction fondly for a moment before adding,] The bad manners are probably my fault. I'm accidentally inducting him into a life of crime. It's up to you to be a good influence.