[ ... dammit, Scratchfever. This is totally revenge for hiding that packet of dried fish from him, isn't it?? Tednug sighs, lowering his hands from his face as soon as he realizes that death isn't going to happen to them right this instant, probably. ]

No, but- look, you don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out how to minimize the chances of a horrible, horrible death, and I'm not gonna stand around and tempt fate. 'Cause fate's got a sick sense of humor.

[ Tednug blinks at the question, also glancing over at his cat (who yawns again, not even bothering to glance at the human). ]

What? Scratchfever? Pretty sure he's not allowed to hold a profession, but I am- well, I was an engineer. Sort of. Very briefly. What're you supposed to be, then?