Samuel looks down at the fruit in his hand in horror and regret, as the other fruits nearby let out tiny screams of terror.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had feelings!" He holds up his hands in placation, managing to not drop the fruit -- and the Pidgey on his shoulder darts at it, trying to get a mouthful. "Pidgey, no!" He quickly surrounds the fruit with both hands, trying to protect it. "You can't eat it!" Well... maybe later. Once he does some science on it.
First dropping the fruit in a labcoat pocket so the others don't have to see the corpse of their fallen friend, he reaches out for the nearby fruits, their tiny screams only intensifying, but instead of picking them, he gently strokes their skin.
"I'm sorry. I won't pick any more of you, I promise." He glances up at Pidgey. "And I won't let Pidgey eat any of you, either." Eventually, after enough stroking and reassuring, he manages to calm the fruit down. Now he can get some science done.
Retrieving a measuring tape from his labcoat, he starts to gently -- very gently -- measure the width of the still-living fruits. (After all, he can measure the dead one at his leisure, hopefully away from the living ones so they don't have to watch.) He laughs when the fruits let out tiny giggles at the gentle touch of the measuring tape.
"Does that tickle? I'll be done soon, I promise." Releasing the measuring tape, he goes to fetch his notebook, and then wraps it around the fruit again -- only to frown at the result. "That doesn't make any sense," he says aloud, not realizing he has an audience other than the fruits he's measuring. "That's nowhere near what I got last time."
Mistaken Reaper (Mortis Lake)
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had feelings!" He holds up his hands in placation, managing to not drop the fruit -- and the Pidgey on his shoulder darts at it, trying to get a mouthful. "Pidgey, no!" He quickly surrounds the fruit with both hands, trying to protect it. "You can't eat it!" Well... maybe later. Once he does some science on it.
First dropping the fruit in a labcoat pocket so the others don't have to see the corpse of their fallen friend, he reaches out for the nearby fruits, their tiny screams only intensifying, but instead of picking them, he gently strokes their skin.
"I'm sorry. I won't pick any more of you, I promise." He glances up at Pidgey. "And I won't let Pidgey eat any of you, either." Eventually, after enough stroking and reassuring, he manages to calm the fruit down. Now he can get some science done.
Retrieving a measuring tape from his labcoat, he starts to gently -- very gently -- measure the width of the still-living fruits. (After all, he can measure the dead one at his leisure, hopefully away from the living ones so they don't have to watch.) He laughs when the fruits let out tiny giggles at the gentle touch of the measuring tape.
"Does that tickle? I'll be done soon, I promise." Releasing the measuring tape, he goes to fetch his notebook, and then wraps it around the fruit again -- only to frown at the result. "That doesn't make any sense," he says aloud, not realizing he has an audience other than the fruits he's measuring. "That's nowhere near what I got last time."