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[collects_strays]

There's a stir at the edge of the forest. First rustling leaves, then footsteps scattering the underbrush, then barking, loud and excited and uncontainable. The dogs jump out from the trees, dashing back and forth and circling the man who has just emerged from the forest with them.

Graham crouches down in the grass, arms open. He murmurs to them, mostly "Hey, hey...," over and over, as the dogs keep barking, jumping and tussling a little with each other for room. They're maybe a little impatient that there's seven of them, and Graham only has two hands.

[ooc: Feel free to lend a hand! Open until it scrolls.]

Comments

[themysciran_diana]

"Will."

Diana approaches, wearing a simple windbreaker (over a red shirt) and jeans. She's got her hands tucked into her pockets as she approaches, hair stirring slightly in the breeze.

"They all very pleased to see you, as I'm sure you can tell."

The two that are farthest from Will reluctantly come over to assess Diana, and she crouches down and begins vigorously scratching ears and bellies, as well.

It's only fair.

"How are you?

[collects_strays]

"They are," Graham agrees.

He takes his time in looking up to her, in answering her. There might be some hesitance, but mostly he doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry.

"I'm..."

Finally, he looks up, his hands still scratching behind Winston's ears, patting Miranda's head.

"... it's better."

[themysciran_diana]

"That's good to hear."

Diana looks up from the dogs once she recognizes Will's gaze on her, but her blue eyes only meet his fleetingly. Mostly she focuses on his left ear, and even more than that on the way he unloads his affection on all the clamoring canines.

"I'd worried."

[collects_strays]

Graham looks back down to the dogs, and nods.

"It is," he says. "It's - different."

[themysciran_diana]

"Good different, I hope. Or I hope you'll feel it's good, given time."

He deserves more kindness and gentleness than the world has seen fit to give him so far.

"Some types of different can be . . . very difficult to adjust to."

[cook_the_rude]

Not so far away, Dr. Hannibal Lecter is standing in the herb garden, watching Graham with his dogs.

[collects_strays]

Graham doesn't look up.

Maybe he's ignoring Hannibal. But it's just as, if not more likely he really hasn't noticed him. Because, after all, there are dogs.

[cook_the_rude]

"They seem so very happy to see you," Hannibal says, approaching quietly from behind.

"Hello, Will."

[collects_strays]

He still doesn't look up. But -

"It's been a while."

It's not entirely clear whom he's referring to.

[cook_the_rude]

"All seven of them love you as much as ever," Hannibal says. "The unconditional love of a dog is deeply touching."

[just_cant_lose]

That's a lot of dogs. Jim pulls his sunglasses up to look at them, and more pertinently, the man they're surrounding.

He is not all that much inclined to lend a hand, but that could change.

'Do you keep dog food in your pockets, or something?'

[collects_strays]

"They're my dogs," he says, not looking up to see who's asking.

[just_cant_lose]

'They're pretty excited for creatures that see you every day.'

Unless they don't see him every day? Or maybe he just got home from work, or something. Dogs get excited about things like that.

[collects_strays]

"They haven't seen me for a while."

He says that easily enough, but doesn't elaborate.

[just_cant_lose]

'Oh.'

Jim acts politely surprised, with a touch of curiousity - the kind strangers display to each other when there's an obvious question to be asked, but prying to consider.

It should be noted that he looks completely benign. There's a towel over his shoulder, clearly on his way to the Caribbean inlet, and he's in T-shirt and jeans. Though he is considering the people he's heard of who are known for having a lot of dogs around here, and it's a very short list.

'That must have been hard, leaving them.'

[patterns_bloom]

Alana smiles as she approaches, her hands in the pockets of her heavy, wool trench coat. "Hello, Will," she says, her voice pitched to carry across the distance, alerting him that she's there long before she actually arrives. "How are you?"

[collects_strays]

Graham glances up at her voice. He stays crouched in the grass, but keeps watching her.

"Hi, Alana." There's a little uncertainty in it, as though he's not quite sure she's really there, until she comes closer.

"I, um -"

It's not a bad um, but definitely a 'I don't know the right word here' kind, so - "H-how are you?"

[patterns_bloom]

Alana's smile stays on her face, warm and gentle and hopefully disarming. She stops a fair distance away, letting him have his space with his dogs, and holds a gloved hand out for one of them to sniff if they choose to break away from Will.

"I'm well, thanks for asking," she says, crouching to better reach the dogs--and to present herself as non-threatening, to Will or the animals or both. "Haven't been up to much, honestly. You look changed."

Is it a good change? Bad change? Up to him.

[collects_strays]

"I'm not sure when you last saw me."

He probably would look changed, regardless, but he wouldn't know what she's comparing him to.

[patterns_bloom]

"It was about a year ago for me," Alana says, trying to remember. She holds her hand out, unmoving. "You had a starling, and Jack was making you examine cases again. You were just released from prison, and you were getting close to--to him."

The word hangs in the air, and Alana winces. She wishes she hadn't brought him up, that he wasn't the inexorable tie that binds her and Will together.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric has been walking down by the lake, singing to himself as he practices a new piece. He turns his hand at the sound of barking and smiles at the knot of dogs surrounding the man. "They seem very pleased to see you."

[collects_strays]

His eyes flit up, briefly, and then back down again.

"I kept them waiting."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's breath catches at he sees the man's face for the first time. His own eyes flash with a soft shine of gold, like cat's eyes catching the setting sun. "Will?"

[collects_strays]

He pauses, for a moment, but his eyes stay on the dogs.

"Yes, that's me," he says, as he resumes scratching behind Winston's ear.

[thewidewideworld]

"Forgive me. I don't believe we've ever met. But I... I have heard a friend of mine speak of you often." He offers Will a graceful bow. "I'm Sinric."