Swamped

"I thought Theo would be here," you say defiantly. "I wanted help adjusting this lizard-worm's collar."

The two-armed human looks at the lizard-worm suspiciously.

"Adjusting it how? It's not hanging loose, and your little pet there doesn't seem to be having any trouble breathing."

Shoot. You didn't think that far ahead.

"It's fine right now, sure, but something's wrong with how it's on there. It keeps getting tighter every once in a while," you lie desperately. "I was hoping Theo could fix it. Now, what are you humans doing in here?"

"Listen, kiddo. You're not half the liar you think you are. Or pickpocket, at that."

"Pickpocket? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how your free hand is firmly planted over your own pocket. Pretty standard tell for youngsters just starting out, they're worried someone is after their own stuff. Especially if it's something they just nabbed. So, let's see it."

"This?" you say, pulling it out. "This is mine, that's all."

The one-armed human seems surprised.

"If that's yours, how come it has my family crest on it?"

Uh-oh. You definitely weren't prepared for that question.

Now what do you do?