'Dora trills an apology, and stands up on his rear legs to pat cutely at Maya's knees with one of his front paws. He's sorry, he didn't mean to interrupt her, please don't be mad! Punk, meanwhile, just looks confused. Is the game over? Did he win?

Before reassurances, condemnations, or any other reactions can be made, Krieg makes his triumphant return, two large brown paper bags filled with food nestled in the crook of one arm. The smell of delicious, greasy takeout immediately fills the room, and once he's fully inside his eyes track - as always - straight to Maya.

And then straight to the thing she's holding.

He'd forgotten about the control collar, as he usually does when he goes for long stretches without fully emptying his travel bag. The reminder is wholly unpleasant, as usual. He freezes in place as the door closes behind him, and stares with a complicated mixture of loathing and longing clear on the exposed portion of his face. Adorababy, still concerned about Maya's expletive, continues to paw softly at her lap, while Punk, completely oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, runs over to greet his trainer and begin begging for scraps. For the moment, the only sounds are the soft Eevee and Sylveon noises the pair of troublemakers are making.