For the most part, he could best describe his feelings as recovered. He supposed the word's definition did not speak of scars and the like but nonetheless, he no longer felt weighed down by an unshakable burden. At times, he felt a resonance of frustration and sadness when he thought too long of Caligula and Maradona but it came in waves and like the tide, it ebbed and flowed away. Today, though, he felt exceptionally recovered. He had performed all that he could early in the morning and now, he lay atop one of the boulders that lay by his den. He laid with his catch between his paws - paws encrusted with dried sea salt now. Between them lay several mollusc and several mice. As far as he was aware, he had earned this small treat.

The day also served as a breather finally, and he had intentionally done his rounds as early as possible in order to give himself such a time. With Cersei thoroughly occupied with not only Sinclair and Octavia, many of the others seemed preoccupied with their own doings. Mortz had his orders and more importantly, he had Riopat to tend to and even she grew busy with students and the like. Praetor had taken to Spirane and Vesper had ventured away to sate her curiosity; even Malina and Rogue's children seemed to have plans to tend to. It left him with a rare moment to merely relax. How could he not do his best to enjoy it? The waning fall sun barely managed to chew through the growing clouds and here, he was at least free from any gusts that tossed sand to and fro. Imagine then his surprise when the familiar form of Rogue before him, the black and crimson of her fur all too recognizable among the others.

She seemed well as far as he could tell. Iromar had fared poorly of late, he had heard, and yet Rogue seemed as healthy as ever. He could not pretend that he was not at least mildly surprised and perhaps it showed; even he had lost weight and motivation the first year of having children. They were all consuming things. She had been smart to allow them to go to Spirane - he wondered if them being cultured was a guise. That brought a small, curious grin to his face as his eyes sought to meet hers. As unexpected as it was, he could not complain about the company.

"How unexpected. Do you plan on staying for some company?"

It was less a question than it was a suggestion and with a cocked brow of query, he expected a positive response. He nosed a heap of his kill forward then, the little mice tumbling forward towards the edge of the stone in an offering to Rogue. What better way to spend together then over a snack and a brilliant afternoon breeze?