Ruadh's big square head comes around at the sound of approach, even before Ellis lays aside the sweet-smelling cigarette he'd been smoking to get to his feet. The massive dog gives a low bof, indecisive, soothed by the passing stroke of fingers over one cropped ear.

"You are back," Ellis marvels. It's a muted reception, even by Ellis' standards; warmth comes seeping in by slow degrees as he straightens. Ruadh's nose butts against Fitz's knee, a brief inspection before Ellis nudges him aside to clap Fitz's shoulder, grip his bicep.

Solid and whole.

"Wysteria will be so pleased," he tells him. "You've been long away."