[Michael nods. He understands the problem acutely now, even if it's not what Claire intended to say.]

I understand. You don't like to be sedentary. Perhaps you'd enjoy it more if you wrote as you gardened, or had someone to take down your thoughts for you.

[As much as he likes the security of seeing his words set in stone, Michael too would rather have his hands busy with a task. Doing the writing had never really been his job, anyway. Heaven did have scribes.

He nods at her thoughts on Nanaue. Though he doesn't think the manshark's memory is robust enough to ever get caught up on details like not being rewarded for his assistance—as long as he has fun, nothing else seems to matter—it's never a bad idea to encourage his good deeds. Michael has seen what Nanaue's less pleasant side is like.]

I have. 'Baby', as he calls it. I knew a man who called his car the same.

[Still knows him, technically. He guesses Dean gets the same comfort from being in his car that Nanaue and others get from holding the little seal. He wonders if Claire has experienced Baby's peculiar ability yet.]

Have you—held it?