Eye of Newt and Toe of Frog

Nimbus is quick to answer his call. Gilgamesh had always been a patient man, if the boy had kept him waiting, he wouldn't have bothered to mention it. Rather pleased actually that the boy was eager to press cheek against his shoulder, Gilgamesh leans down to touch his nose to Nimbus' clouded forehead. As he lifts his muzzle, he regards Nimbus and his question with a rumble from his chest. "No better than yesterday," he responds simply, tones even and light, not wishing to have anyone hem and haw over his wellbeing too much.

He's glad Nimbus is also quick to not linger on his wellbeing. The offer to go inside is touching, but Gilgamesh shakes his head. Preferring to stay outdoors, Gilgamesh looks around him and decides that where he stood was as good a spot as any. Turning a few slow circles to help tamp the grass down beneath him, he eventually plops himself down, rolling onto his side and allowing his legs to stretch out.

"Sunshine does have a way of turning one's mood better," Gilgamesh comments as he watches his son mill about, doing whatever task he had been doing previous to his arrival. On that note, it did make the father curious. His pups - who were not so pup anymore - were always up to something, keeping busy or staying in trouble. "What is it that occupies you today?" Gilgamesh inquires, head perking up to see over the grass to wherever Nimbus was.

The Raid King, Gilgamesh