[ Itβs clear, the effect the creature has had on his body—the beginnings of muscular atrophy, a dramatic change from what he must be used to being able to do as a cosmonaut inhabiting a perfected body. Thereβs a deep twinge of sympathy, there; he canβt imagine what it would feel like to go from his own current physical condition to something so much weaker, unable to do much without help.
His eyes crinkle with a smile at the joke and he shakes his head. ]
Nonsense! 39 is not old. [ Certainly not on him... ] You arenβt even 40 yet. The groundβs just frozen solid. Nobody could get that in.
[ He sets the teapot down on a stump and folds his arms, regarding the perimeter drawn in the snow again with a thoughtful frown. ]
If we canβt drive in a post, though, a fox canβt dig under the fence. Maybe we can do something aboveground. Rocks, maybe. Or we could move something solid and use it for a post. [ It would, of course, have to be himself, not a we, but. ] You could string the fence while I make the posts. Someone has to hold it in place while itβs attached to the posts too.
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His eyes crinkle with a smile at the joke and he shakes his head. ]
Nonsense! 39 is not old. [ Certainly not on him... ] You arenβt even 40 yet. The groundβs just frozen solid. Nobody could get that in.
[ He sets the teapot down on a stump and folds his arms, regarding the perimeter drawn in the snow again with a thoughtful frown. ]
If we canβt drive in a post, though, a fox canβt dig under the fence. Maybe we can do something aboveground. Rocks, maybe. Or we could move something solid and use it for a post. [ It would, of course, have to be himself, not a we, but. ] You could string the fence while I make the posts. Someone has to hold it in place while itβs attached to the posts too.