Stepping into the warmth of the estate was pleasant, and even more pleasant with his fingers twined between Hawke's. It felt natural, though he was not entirely inclined to trust his judgement as far as that was concerned.

"Do I have his approval to stay?" The joke, mumbled softly, eased his uncertainty. Hawke's dog had always liked him well enough, though he assumed the mabari only liked people who Hawke liked. The crackling of the fireplace also seemed to loosen some tension from his shoulders. It reminded him of his own room, of nights spent falling asleep in his worn armchair.