He'd been heading across the strip of forest separating his--back yard--from the next row of houses, mildly distracted by the lift of a voice through the trees, when it just so happened to coincide with the house he'd set out for. Not one to pass up free entertainment, and enjoying a change from Casey's bluesy harmonica, Kira crosses his arms and leans against the last tree before the clearing behind the house, watching the man he presumes to be Jake belt his rendition to the dog.

It isn't until the man's voice trails off that Kira announces his presence with a round of applause, still titled sideways against the tree, feet steadied on its roots. "Veronica isn't home right now, is she," he asks, hopping off and approaching the rest of the way into the space.

He isn't sure why he felt he should seek her out: he doesn't exactly have a new theory about their captors or better supplies for scaling the walls. But he'd woken up the past few days with a pinch in his gut, and the idea unfurling like a blossom for the sun: go talk to her. Maybe it was some of that old intuition returning with the sun, maybe she had some new insight he needed to hear.