[Oh me... Oh my... It's a little dog. A little talking dog. And he doesn't even have to be Owen to enjoy it. White crouches beside her, peering into the glass case, and hums softly.]

It certainly is. I wonder why they have it in the first place? And why they're letting others at the chance of buying it. Most establishments try and keep such things a secret, in my experience.

[But it must be frightening to most. White has seen far more many bodies than his young looks would let on, and he'll gently brush his fingers against Angel's fur to comfort her a bit.]

Which means there must be something more to it than meets the eye. Nonetheless, you shouldn't look at things that upset you, little one.