Human giving an alien scritches.
"I'm not a pet, you know."
"Do you want me to stop?"
"…No" -- TheDragonsFlame
The one thing one must remember about Humans, Thrikki wrote in her journal, apart from the most obvious like the whole Deathworlder thing, is that they are incredibly tactile. They reach out to feel things just to experience what it feels like. They reassure themselves on the presence of their fellows. They show affection through touch.
Human Cass was doing just that, perched awkwardly on the arm of the same chair that Thrikki occupied. They had a reader in one hand and the idle other had drifted to the fur on Thrikki's exposed skin. Possibly on automatic, they started stroking and kneading at Thrikki's loose skin. Not that it wasn't unpleasant, per se, it was just...
Thrikki had formerly observed Human Cass doing something similar to one of the Skitties on board. Which should have made the automatic action insulting, except... Tactile reward systems went both ways. Thrikki took a stand for all future fuzzy cogniscents. "I'm not a pet, you know."