No threat here at all, just gray fingers with meticulously filed and painted nails (black, to cover up their 'unsightly' natural yellow). When Coconut uncurls and accepts the petting his face breaks into a genuine and only slightly pointy smile.

"Not remotely. At least, I can't imagine doing it successfully. I think he'd shred whatever I tried to put him in."

He rubs the pad of one finger between Coconut's ears, down his face, over his snuffly snout.

"I could paint his shell, though, if I could get him to sit still long enough. The white is a perfect canvas."