He looks vaguely skeptical, but he gives it a few tentative squeezes. He doesn't want to break it.

It feels weird. But not bad. And he thinks he likes the texture of it, the ribbing and the fluffy fabric. So he tucks it into his hoodie pocket, along with both hands.

There is one lingering bit of human interaction he can remember, at least: "Thank you." Then a pause, and he adds, "Sorry for. That."