BRING IT TO LIFE | O; SWEATERS (+ 100TH POST!)

[GARRETT]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Garrett's fur was blessedly thick. Though it wasn't the softest, or the longest, or even the prettiest, it did its job well enough. Even though everyone suffered up here in some way or another, at least he didn't have to worry about that too much. Still, he finds himself longing for the floating town that he had joined a little too late. If he had left The Typhoon earlier, maybe he would have found himself enjoying at least a little bit of paradise. At leas the cold suited him better than a tropical island, right? Maybe. He found himself unsettled here as well, unsure if he could find it in himself to stay. That same pressure in his chest tells him to keep trying to head home. He's too young, he's lost, he'll never find it on his own — he knows that, he just doesn't want to admit it.

So maybe that thought had left him a little sour lately. There's something sulky about the way that the canine walks around. His head stays low, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in tired concentration. Though he didn't talk to many people, it wouldn't surprise him if the word had gotten around a little bit. "Watch out for that grey dog, he's being moody." Or maybe he's just... worried. About people talking about him, or whatever. Curiosity eventually shoves that out of the way when he hears Bex's call. For the first time in a while, his expression clears, his headache soon following. It's amazing what tension could do, and what occupying himself could fix.

The young dog shuffles his paws for a moment, grayish eyes softening as he looks at the sweater she had put on herself. It reminds him of stuff his mother would make, though she weaved with wires instead of thread. And nobody ever wore that. (Hey, the important part is that it makes sense to him, right?) "How'd you do that?" he asks quietly, timidly curious. Working with his paws was a way to keep himself busy, so maybe it was another thing he could learn. If he kept giving away his mom's old mechanical parts, he'd run out soon anyway.