He's only doing this because he has to, he tells himself. Because without Wing being functinal, he's here alone, and he's all too aware that Wing is the only person who puts up with him.

"I got it," he mutters. Stop telling him what to do. Except for the fact that he just asked Wing to tell him what to do. He just doesn't like the implied reminder that he was being, you know, gentle.

Still, he does move a bit more firmly, whether galled to it or not, his hands sliding along the seams, tugging at the kibble, and trying really hard not to think how much of a fantasy this was becoming.