YOU'RE A NATURAL // OPEN

[LAZARUS]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;"]If you were gonna compare Gabriel to Lazarus in terms of social interaction, he was... Van Gogh to Laz's finger paintings. The extent of his interactions before had been teeth sinking into his skin and then guarding the wound viciously, sweating through infection and blood loss and starving nights. Where Gabe had been given time to grow up and learn, pull through years after years, sometimes with support Lazarus had desperately lacked for so long, and sometimes on his own. Either way, he'd learned. Laz hasn't yet. The sign is going to be a useful thing. Uncomfortable, maybe, but that's alright. It hadn't taken long for the canine to settle to the ground near his adoptive father, massive head on his paws as he watches. Each discarded sign has him perking up for a moment, watching where they fall with wide lime-green eyes. Maybe like he'd wanted to go get them and bring them back, but he doesn't.

Instead, he's lulled back to a tentative complacency, noting the concentration on his face. He's not sure being a woodpecker would give him anything 'cept a migraine, but it looks like he's going to get one anyway before he finishes this thing. The dog lifts his head at the question and smiles, the expression subtle and then gaining until his teeth are bared in a grin. "Es inglés, anciano. El burro sabe mas que tu."

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