[A moth circles him once or twice when he first pitches up, then takes itself off.

Taylor's still dressed for working, which today means jeans cut off at the knee and a blank gray hoodie that looks tailored, having been made with just one sleeve for her one arm. Scraps, the blue and yellow cross between a ferret and a centipede, is curled up in the hood, her chin resting on Taylor's good shoulder. She doesn't have to look around for him when she reaches the deck, coming straight to join him with a little wave.]

Hey, thanks for reaching out.