tethered to the dream

[Barrett]

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This experience was shaping up to be a rather gratifying one, and—although he couldn't have known it yet—it would prove integral to his finding a place in the pack. Barrett would come to find he had frightfully little in common with most of the established Dreamers, so connections like these were important. It went a little further than simply having the same taste in work, too. He rather liked Ehno; the Marino man reminded him strongly of Gale: gregarious and generous with a calm, fatherly air. “Alright, cool! Thanks,” he replied with a wave of his tail. All of his tools were back at the garage and it would be tedious trying to collect and maintain two sets. Sharing the workshop would also be a great excuse to stop by the manor once in awhile.

He hummed quietly to himself as he loosened the final hinge, and, with a few grunts of exertion, he managed to wrestle the door free at last. He propped it up against the side of the structure, supposing the wood might be useful scrap for smaller projects—or at bare minimum, fodder for a bonfire. The chocolate wolf stretched and cracked his back before reaching for the hammer again: now it was time for the fun part. (It was debatable whether Barrett actually enjoyed construction or demolition more.) First, he paused to consider the elder's words.

It was kind of strange to him—he knew everything had to start somewhere at sometime, but Crimson Dreams had been established well before his birth, even his conception. For all he knew, it was a permanent fixture in Nova Scotia. But Ehno had been here when the pack was founded? It was a mind-boggling realisation; he was in awe anyone could stay in the same place for so long, as much as anything. Though... that hadn't always been true, had it? “Why did you guys leave Italy?” he wondered. Of all the immigrants and travellers he'd met, they all had a different story, ranging from adventure to escaping prosecution.

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