Hux doesn't smell like the soap Teddy remembers from the room, but all the scents are muffled and different thanks to the rain. He doesn't question the validity and scratches at his ear, trying to knock water out of it while Hux speaks.

When their eyes are closer to level, he makes and maintains eye contact.

Not well. I can remember some of what I felt.

He's so tired, and the constant typing and thinking in words is draining him fast. He slides down to lay on the floor, his wet fur re-coating in dust to make a new mess that would wash out again in the rain.