[Every single raccoon in this house will be properly hugged and tended to with the utmost affection (especially EAR) soon. He listens to the familiar, comfortable noise with furrowed brow, wondering if Eduardo passed the message along, or if Will was spotted already, or if he just smells enough everything with a good nose can pick up on him. There's a minor pang of guilt he doesn't have anything in his pockets to share, and then that's all replaced with a mix of worry and joy at spotting April in her natural state.
Joy beats all worries out when her reaction is so favorable. He lets it happen, of course he does, has no reason not to. Even though his face has been hacked slightly, momentary pain is no longer concern. Not when the payoff if he ignores it, as he easily can, is April essentially trapping him between her and the floor. That's one of the best places to be in any world, he'd be mad to try wriggling out of it. Rather, he almost madly works to return it, bury his face against her shoulder and wrap his arms around her so tightly it's bordering on too much.]
Hi to you, too. [His voice is ridiculously fond and he goes down without a fight. He remembers how he left her. Poor April, she deserves a half-mustache ride, she could sit on his tummy scar and he wouldn't find it anything other than justified.] Miss me?
[He wishes he could say he missed her, but alas. They both know that's a fucking lie.]
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Joy beats all worries out when her reaction is so favorable. He lets it happen, of course he does, has no reason not to. Even though his face has been hacked slightly, momentary pain is no longer concern. Not when the payoff if he ignores it, as he easily can, is April essentially trapping him between her and the floor. That's one of the best places to be in any world, he'd be mad to try wriggling out of it. Rather, he almost madly works to return it, bury his face against her shoulder and wrap his arms around her so tightly it's bordering on too much.]
Hi to you, too. [His voice is ridiculously fond and he goes down without a fight. He remembers how he left her. Poor April, she deserves a half-mustache ride, she could sit on his tummy scar and he wouldn't find it anything other than justified.] Miss me?
[He wishes he could say he missed her, but alas. They both know that's a fucking lie.]