There was no bell on the door as he entered the pet shop, but the satyr was sure the mysterious owner would be alerted of any visitors. Nervously he tottered down the stairs on his heels, one hand clutching the bannister. Kithane was in no way ready to see D but he knew he had to see him, he had to tell him he was back in town and let him know he was not dead, as so many others had assumed he was. "Hello?"
As was correctly assumed, the Count had been well aware of someone entering his store, having risen from his seat to cross the room in his usual graceful strides to greet his customer; this however, had all changed the very moment that he had heard the voice that came with the entry and footsteps.
There was not very much in this world that could break through the measured, and calculated manners in which D acted, though this was one of them. At first he had stumbled, believing his ears had deceived him, hurrying forth to see if his eyes would perceive the same-- There he was.
Hurried steps at this had grown to something quicker, before his arms were suddenly thrown tight around the satyr’s frame, dragging him quite callously into his chest to hold him as close as he was able while features buried to the top of the shorter’s head. He could hardly believe that this was real as he’d clutched Kithane against himself, breathing him in wordlessly, though the shuddering of his lungs with each breath was more than enough of a clue to his current state.
