300 +
Kansas was struck by a sudden sadness. He'd been trying to win Jazper's friendship for quite some time, but things always got in the way. Last time, it had been the music he'd played, and his lack of agreeable CDs to make up for hurting Jazz's ears. And now, the only reason they were going to be friends was because the handsome, swarthy man saw them as equals. He had what Kansas had. The pale boy believed that was all Jazper needed to accept him, and it made him sad. Why couldn't Jazper just like him for who he was? Or perhaps they were too different for that. Kansas didn't know. Maybe it didn't matter—after all, Jazper was willing to have a conversation with him now. The Sadira figured he shouldn't complain.
Kansas' smile returned when he saw the extent of Jazper's affection. It was absolutely endearing. He looked like the perfect father, and Kansas didn't mean that enviously. He loved how happy these children made Jazper, and he didn't even know why. He remembered his first few days as a father, how he'd needed to take care of the puppies while Savina regained her strength. He'd loved every second of it, despite his obvious, crippling inexperience. "Sure, I'd love to, i-if you don't mind. Let me shift first..." He took a few steps back to give himself room, and also to prevent freaking out the puppies. He shifted in the span of a second, then held out his hands to take whichever pup he was given. "I know. I feel like I didn't hold mine enough when they were little. I miss it. I, uh. I want more," he grinned, venturing to look into Jazper's eyes and feeling that, though sad that it was needed, the connection was finally there.