[ Recovery is a slow and agonizing process. Sometimes, he must wait until the fog rolls in due to too much "playing." His injuries from killing Susan are, indeed, extensive and four days is still a little too much time to be able to be as he was. But he's proud of her. Very proud of her. She stood strong against him. It's difficult to tell what he's suffered -- black blood covering most of his face and wretched body.

His ears give a little flick before he lifts his head up. He sniffs the air hesitantly before using the wall to push himself up, limping on his side as he peers out. Yes, he sat by the wall near the cafe -- waiting, waiting, waiting. If he waited by it itself, that might make people avoid it in the later future. His tail gives a little flick. ]

Kira. [ He smiles, teeth blackened a little, as he stumbles out. Looking up toward the large pink cat, he slides his hands over toward the leather bindings. Pointing to them, he adds: ] I like this one a lot. Those bindings look like fun. [ A giggle bubbles out as he wags his tail even more in greeting. It's been a long time since they've seen each other face-to-face, hasn't it? It has been! ]

You seem happy. No? You seem content. [ He offers a wider smile. ] I have not seen you looking so content. Ah, it puts me at ease. Yes, it does. [ More laughter pours out. He continues to stumble forward -- reaching out to grab onto Kira's arm. Broken claws reaching to pull his arm in for a half-embrace. ]

You're back. You're back! [ As relieved as he sounds, mania warps the words like he isn't sure if he isn't seeing things. Perhaps, a saving grace is that his tail is not frantically wagging. Wagging is a voluntary response and he can't be troubled to do it at that moment.]