Sun Mote Copse it is wednesday my duuuuuuudes

What the heck did she gnab? Nothing useful, that was for sure. Q failed and threw her paw in what could only be called a "bitch slap" (okay, no it couldn't, because it was so weak) for her struggles. Nothing yielded, to her frustration. When her father spoke Q screeched, quieting only to feel the comforting drone of his familiar vibrations. 

Not that she understood him, but his speaking did the trick. A second-long headlift as she sniffed... and then the waterworks began again. Likely until he spoke to her, or else suddenly provided milk.