Moving day

The bitterness in her tone brings Dread in, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead. A light sigh, a little twitch of his tail. "All these siblings and you think we won't be back for birthdays, nieces and nephews, and who knows what else?" It's a gentle ribbing, a little wink. Though things weren't necessarily ideal, he could try to drag her spirits up... kicking and screaming as they may be.

At the thought of a treehouse, he considers for a moment. That was certainly a thought. "Saves the hassle of clearing underbrush, which is my least favorite part," Dread's tone was thoughtful. "Protects from any potential flooding, too. I like it." He grinned softly, happy to just be near her. Maybe not great for his tough guy image, but he maintains that displays of affection are punk rock.

"Ideally it'll take four good trees that do a lot of the work for us. We don't want to waste time building extra support beams." Dread thinks back to the treehouse that he'd spent so much time playing beneath in the Armada, and the others they'd hastily lashed together to play in. It felt like a long time ago now, but the skills... they're still here. He's still the same boy, playing beneath the shade cast by Hazel's treehouse between lessons with Halo. Yes. Dread is happy to advise on all treehouse related matters.

Already excitedly on his feet, Dread wouldn't go without her on their search for good trees.

"speech"