It's a warm day when Joshua finally returns, and Alecto is outside hanging the laundry to dry. Avery had just finished a romp in the waves and, having refused to take off his sealskin immediately after, had fallen asleep curled up in his mother's laundry basket. He was still such a small pup, Alecto thinks to himself as he admires his son, bending down once he's finished pinning the shirts to the line to stroke his soft, freckled fur. Avery hiccups, his wet nose twitching, his entire right flipper held in his mouth like a pacifier.

A breeze picks up and Alecto tilts his head. As usual, he can smell his husband before he can even see or hear him: the scent of earth and something tannic, mannish. He immediately looks up, hoisting the wicker basket up against his hip, and going down the grassy hill to meet him.

"Welcome back, darling," he says, melodious as always, his voice carrying with immense warmth in the open air. He's a sight to behold against the huge expanse of sky and sea behind him, a pale, lithesome figure like some marble statue of a nereid come to life. When he's close enough to touch, he bumps his nose to Joshua's, an old habit of theirs that hasn't quite gone away, before fully kissing him on the lips. Within the basket, Avery is snoring.

"How was the trip? Did you get everything sorted?"