[ Reynir hasn't been all that bothered by homesickness since he came through the mirror; he'd assumed that at this point he probably never would. But it's shocking, how quickly it comes over him, when confronted with the very familiar feeling of a pushy, affectionate sheep bumping against his legs. There's a lump of emotion in his throat all of a sudden, and his voice comes out thick and hoarse as he murmurs: ]
Alright alright, buddy, I hear you, don't fret.
[ He can't possibly leave this lost little guy on his own. He's going to have to figure out who owns him and get him back home and safe. But there's no harm in giving the thing a bit of attention, first. Reynir crouches down, and starts to give the sheep a good, thorough scratch around the base of his horns. He has a new appreciation of how nice that would feel, since he's grown horns of his own. ]
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Alright alright, buddy, I hear you, don't fret.
[ He can't possibly leave this lost little guy on his own. He's going to have to figure out who owns him and get him back home and safe. But there's no harm in giving the thing a bit of attention, first. Reynir crouches down, and starts to give the sheep a good, thorough scratch around the base of his horns. He has a new appreciation of how nice that would feel, since he's grown horns of his own. ]