Makkachin accepts the attention as his due, wagging his tail and leaning in to the touch. He's just as likely to try and give Wikus a lick: he's just affectionate and recognises very little about personal boundaries. Traits his owner can share often enough.

"He is," Victor says instead, agreeing with the nonsensical sort of statement delivered. "And he knows it, if you couldn't already tell. Have you ever been a pet owner yourself?"

Easy conversation, noting the oddity of something about his hand, but not particularly what. Nor is it his business; not at present. Perhaps not ever, at all.