Another red scrubs, is the first thing he thinks. It has his danger-sensing buzzing on overdrive before he's even close enough to recognize her. It's windy and rainy today, but he doesn't seem phased by it, and nor does the dutiful black-and-tan bloodhound at his side. He approaches slowly, hood drawn up over his long hair and beard but he's squinting against the weather anyway. It feels like snow, but the temperature is still too high yet - probably tonight.
Before he can call her back, Aretha runs right up to the stranger and starts sniffing at her knees. Frank opens his mouth to scold her, she's usually a much better listener, but when he sees the woman's face his heart stops. Brenda, as he had known her, though he'd always known too it wasn't her real name. He's caught gawking a few moments before he finally snaps himself out of it enough to push some words past his lips, still hanging open.
"S-sorry," it's less of a stutter than a hesitation, his voice soft and yet its gruffness carries it through the wintery breeze. "You come from there?" He points back to the lake as it starts to overflow, knowing she must have since he was just by the fountain with no sign of a new (old) face.
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Before he can call her back, Aretha runs right up to the stranger and starts sniffing at her knees. Frank opens his mouth to scold her, she's usually a much better listener, but when he sees the woman's face his heart stops. Brenda, as he had known her, though he'd always known too it wasn't her real name. He's caught gawking a few moments before he finally snaps himself out of it enough to push some words past his lips, still hanging open.
"S-sorry," it's less of a stutter than a hesitation, his voice soft and yet its gruffness carries it through the wintery breeze. "You come from there?" He points back to the lake as it starts to overflow, knowing she must have since he was just by the fountain with no sign of a new (old) face.