WHO: Ellis + OTA WHAT: Homecoming WHEN: Guardian WHERE: Kirkwall NOTES: Thread collection. Closed and open starters in the comments. Holler if you want something bespoke or drop in a wildcard, I'll roll with it.
She lets him go, laughter light in her throat. Happy to roll back into the floor, she settles in next to the dog. Ought to pay the piper, so to speak. A guard dog is only as good as it is useful. She pets the thing between its ears.
Resettling, Ellis braces his forearms on his knees to watch Jone and Ruadh. The tension in the mabari's frame eases, his eyes moving from Ellis back to Jone, skepticism fading under the application of pets.
He'd missed her.
"He likes you."
Or tolerates her. Will like her, sooner or later. Ellis has a strong sense of Jone's chances. She's still Ferelden at the end of it all. Who else has thrown themselves down to pay Ruadh this kind of attention?
"Yeah, he'd better. I'm in with his boss." She pats the dog's head, and doesn't look at it. Dogs are fine, she supposes, though she'll never understand the mania her countrymen have for the beasts.
"Reckon you'll not say, if I ask where you've been."
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"Glad you're back in one piece, luv."
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He'd missed her.
"He likes you."
Or tolerates her. Will like her, sooner or later. Ellis has a strong sense of Jone's chances. She's still Ferelden at the end of it all. Who else has thrown themselves down to pay Ruadh this kind of attention?
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"Reckon you'll not say, if I ask where you've been."
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Boss. That's hardly the word, but Ellis lets it pass while he considers the question Jone is hedging around asking.
"I'll tell you it's Warden business."
True. In a manner of speaking.