Ulysses' eyes dart between the prefect and the door, not quite focused and still overflowing. He's not going to put up much of a fight here — truth is, he doesn't know what he's doing. This is one part animal instinct and one part the half-formed memory of a time when 'outside' felt safer. "I-I," he stutters.

"I was just..." Ulysses trails off. He looks down at Rex, now pressed up against him, and gently strokes the top of his head. Maybe if he doesn't look up, y'all won't notice he's been crying. "Never mind."