"Thanks." Noah glances away from the kitten long enough to see what Ronan's brought. "Hey, it's too early for beer!" he calls after Ronan, but his attention goes right back to the kitten. He can feel the gentle purring against his chest, the tiny pinprick of an occasional claw as he explores.

At the sound of the camera, Noah looks over with a groan, but he's still smiling so it's mostly ineffectual. "Don't take a picture of me, I just woke up. I haven't even combed my hair." He looks back to the kitten, lifting his paw with a finger, and pitches his voice back into that silly baby speak. "Little Ronan here needs to be combed, too. Yes you do. Look at all that fur."