Ripley cracks a crooked grin at the mention of her housemate. The perpetually in-motion Wigglesworth, who she swears spends more time eating than he does actually stumbling around. The fondness she feels for him stuck instantaneously, and no matter how many times she's had to dive across the ground to save him from toppling over, he's nevertheless a worthy companion.

"Good point. He's broken three of my mugs now. He plays it off like an accident, but I know him better."

Little shit. She'd kill a dozen men for that stupid cat.

"Actually, I've been meaning to get my hands on some house paint. I've got no idea what color, but I've been staring at white walls for so long that anything seems like a fine alternative."