As you enter the room, Fucina lets out an incoherent series of high-pitched noises and screeches as she struggles to push herself up from the couch. Her limbs move with uncoordinated jerks and fumbles, and she staggers to the windowsill, where a small aquarium sits empty. But rather than reaching for it, she grasps a soil-filled flower pot instead, with the tail of her dead red fish poking out of the dirt. Fucina's twisted fingers clumsily handle the heavy pot as she stumbles towards you, stretching it out.

Tears stream down her sickly, childlike face as she tries to push through the lack of mental capacity and articulate the unbearable sense of loss. Her stunted speech reveals a severely limited mind.

"Fisssh...gow swimm...den sip... Gwow fissshy...den sip water...wake up...."

Fucina's simple pleas fade into plaintive babbling as she rocks back and forth, clutching the lifeless fish within its soil, planted as if it were a seed due to her naive hopes of reviving it.