[He leans down a bit, rubbing his face in the dog's fur, soaking up as much of its puppy-love as he can in a vain attempt to make up for all the times he begged for one only for his father to shut him down.]

...and he doesn't have wings. But you're saying there's animals here that do? Ones that... shouldn't, normally, anyway.

[Hope rises then, standing up straight, and pulls the blanket from his shoulders—which has mostly fallen off him at that point anyway. Gingerly, he reaches up to touch one of his wings, trying not to aggravate the soreness.] What else do I have to get used to, then?