the seasons don't fear the reaper.

Barrett · 05-23-2011, 02:57 PM

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The sable Italian acknowledged him quickly upon his call, orienting first her gaze and then her body as she drew closer. For a pregnant moment Barrett wavered uncertainly; he'd been focused enough (albeit in some loose way) on finding her that he hadn't noticed the heavy aura surrounding her outright. He was no mystic, no telepath; he could only vaguely grasp the penetrating, ceaseless concerns parenthood and leadership presented--and yet, he was perceptive enough to recognise a mind abuzz with troubling thoughts, even if he could not identify them specifically.

But his concerns took to the back burner when a smile graced her lips, and his tail swung harder as he peppered her muzzle with submissive licks once she was very near. "It has," he concurred. Her inquiry was typical and not unexpected, but now it was he who found his memories awash with the countless canines and territories he'd encountered over the year past. Some of the visages that danced before his mind's eye were kind, others cruel; many were comfortable and familiar, but others were downright strange. The range of emotion experienced since their last meeting was most overwhelming of all.

"It's a long story," he said at last, though he was quick to add a reassuring, "but I've mostly been at home." They would catch up in due time, of course--soon, even--but he would need time to organise his thoughts. Strangely (or not), it seemed easiest to work backwards instead. "Mom and grandpa are doing well," he added. "They've both sent things for you," he remarked through a smile, gesturing toward the large bag that draped awkwardly across his quadruped form. He didn't suppose there was any use trying to handle the bundles without ... well, hands ... but he knew better than to show up on claim lands shifted, even if it probably wouldn't be an issue just this once.

"How're you holding up?"

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