She was like a shadow, moving silently over the earth, her footfalls soft as seafoam. He only noticed her approach when his eyes drifted from the water, landing on her form as it drew near. Then his mouth curled in a warm smile, eyes dancing at her greeting. “Ms. Valle,” he hummed, bowing his head to her; “Seems ye’ve found yeself another pond.”

He glanced at the mirror-still water, but only briefly, before turning his eyes back on her, taking a moment to appreciate her appearance before admitting: “A’ guess ye could say we’re both drawn t’ water.” And yet it wasn’t the water that held his entire attention, in fact, it might as well not have been there, for all he was concerned.

His eyes shone brightly as he watched her run to him, tail swishing behind him in tune with his heartbeat – unsettlingly fast considering his was standing still. She was majestic, even here on this sorry excuse for a shore. The pirate decided then that he wanted to see her were she truly belonged!

As she drew near, he answered her in a soft voice: “What keeps ye?” His gaze sought to meet hers, an earnest tenderness to his smile for a moment, before it turned wry, head bowing in deference. “If it’s a guide ye need, A’ humbly offer me services.” He kept his head low but glanced up at her with a humorous sparkle in his eyes, waiting for her response. When they’d first met, she’d spoken of her family, and taking them all back to their pack by the sea. Yet here she was, seemingly living alone; Something has changed… Though, he certainly wouldn’t mind travelling just the two of them.

The tone changed almost instantly; the seriousness clear on her features even before she spoke. At first her answer was  dismissive, and he was prepared to accept it – she owed him nothing, even if she’d simply changed her mind, it was her business. But then, slowly, she continued to explain.

Kyrios’ eyes grew softer, his smile shrinking from the characteristic, playful grin, to something gentler and more genuine. He understood, oh, he understood so fully and wholeheartedly, in his heart aches for the pain he could so clearly tell Modesto was feeling. When she finished, he reached out to brush her muzzle with his, offering what comfort he could. “A’m sorry love,” He said quietly, a genuineness to his voice that it rarely held; “Ye take all th’ time ye need, A’m a patient lad, A’ll wait.” He looked then to meet her eyes, making sure she knew he meant those words without jest; he’d stay here with here as long as she needed.