"I warned you, Rook. Stray animals need flea baths or they’ll leave fleas every where. You have fur, fleas love fur, you became a target." Ben smirked as Rook huffed and took a seat. His fur damp from his "flea bath" as Ben dubbed it. The itching had ceased but there was still a threat of survivors. Ben, being the only person Rook trusted with such a personal matter, was called into the line of duty to check along the thicker patches of fur where Rook couldn’t reach. Meaning, his head and the stripes that ran along his chest to his back and so on. Ben didn’t hesitate at the chance to look over Rook’s body closely.