Sequoia Coast outside, cold and ghosting out with jetlag

he saw movement shifting through the shadows cast by tree and boulder and plashing wave and then he heard the bid meant uniquely for him--his pulse, connected to a live wire of anticipation, briskened with his pace as he began to sprint across the strand towards the slimtorn figure. she was complemented, though by whom he could not distinguish from the distance quickly furling between them--perhaps vlad? or kjalarr? he didn't linger on the question, he just needed her to be real.

his legs couldn't move him any faster and he stopped just short of plowing into her, skidding to a halt just feet from the former monarch. a sharp intake of breath punctuated by his chest swelling with apprehension. his eyes slid to the mercenary accompanying her, trying to dissect recollections of the argentite man. he didn't dwell, despite not remembering, and drew up to Caiaphas. "are you really here?" he whispered hoarsely.

he had to be sure. he extended his muzzle tentatively, touching her fur where nightshade transitioned to silver. he touched it as delicately as he would the florets of a dandelion, fearful she might dissassemble and spirit away with the breeze.

but it felt... real... "you're real!" he yipped, tail whipping furiously at his hocks as he made all manner of fond, whinging noises, besieging her chin with weaponized kisses (with a tongue that was magnetized to any evasive maneuvering of her head). "i thought you were gone, you never came back..." he had imagined this moment in his head night after night when he couldn't sleep--rehearsed what he would say, the guilt he would levy against her, if there was an alternate universe where she was alive and theatrically reunited with him. 

in the actual moment, he couldn't summon the drive to do anything except buy his head under her chin, trying with all his might to snuggle into her as if he were, again, the young puppy she had once claimed as her own.