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He knew as well as the Californian that returning to Anchjo Horzana was not in the desert-born mutt's best interests, but the fam was all she had outside of her dual-persona friend. She had tried to make her way with the Mexican Santos family, but their rigid pack life was no in her tastes; her father had instilled a need for 'comfort' in large groups. Family. That was what Bartholomew was, even if Mars didn't like to think the same way.
She took a few long strides toward the makeshift table, made from wood and blocks of the hard greying material she'd seen in Californian buildings, trying to give the handsome Cubbins a smile in return; all the thoughts of her father left her in a bit of a downtrodden mood. "It woulda been family, though. Like, y'know, papa woulda let me come back. I think." She had left earlier than most, opposed to Anchjo's ideas about life and how the fam should have run, but she was certain her estranged father would welcome her home. He loved her. He'd proved it.
"I'm glad I'm here, though, studmuffin." She sat down in the chair offered to her, crossing her thick legs and removing the leather jacket she had been wearing since entering the snow-plagued northern US. "I dun feel so alone anymore." The words hit her chest hard, leaving a sad and guilty expression on her face. "Awh, poor Barty! I didn' mean ta make ya feel alone!" she exclaimed, nearly spilling her tea in the process of trying to give her friend a hug. She wasn't sure if she could believe he had truly been alone; there were other females in the pack, she had met one.
Talk of what profession she took brought a shrug to the Shepherd-mix's shoulders. "Writer, y'know. I like to write." It was a good place for her, able to express her creativity through words rather than other concrete art forms. She waved the discussion away with one hand, aiming to turn it back to the present. "So, what's been up with you two? Any lady friends I should be jealous of?" She laughed, though it was a serious statement in her head.
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