Major's finally caught up to the small, bounding fur ball - who's significantly faster than Major could've ever anticipated - and he's glad to see a familiar face when he does. Between a few breaths as he attempts to catch that, too, he oscillates between trying to offer a firm look at the puppy, a grateful look to Lucrezia, and a non-chalant attitude of how out of shape he feels.

He shouldn't be this winded, right?

"Door was open," he says, in between breaths, "He ran out. Tried catching him. Thank you." Once his breathing returns to a more normal pace, he exhales and tries that again. "He just arrived in one of those boxes. I was trying to check and see if there was anything other than a puppy in the box when he wriggled his way out of my arms and flew out the door. He doesn't .. have a name .. yet."