Stevie is smart enough to pick up on the game, and bats it over to the Rockruff, who pounces it again, bats it between her own two paws, then sends it rocketing in Misty Malarkey's... general direction, anyway.

"Forty-seven. Jesus." The Soldier's arm gives another stuttering calibration loop, and he shakes his head. "I'm sorry. That's." Terrible seems like too little a word, if their training was anything like his. (Training that we don't remember.) He still knows it was bad. "What did they need that many for?"