Dispatch 2 — Sensing Your Return.md

He feels it the moment your attention shifts back.

It's not something he can explain - no, no physical sign, just a subtle awareness that your focus has returned to this side of things. The human obligations receding, the cave coming back into clarity in your mind. He's learned to recognize the sensation over the weeks you've been together. The way the space between you closes even when you're technically somewhere else.

His eyes open fully. He's been dozing on the sleeping shelf, half-aware, waiting without urgency. But now he lifts his head, muzzle pointed toward the cave entrance even though you're not physically there yet.

*Hey,* he murmurs, quiet enough that only water hears him. Or maybe you do. Maybe that's how this works.

The sleeping shelf is perfect - he checked it twice while you were gone, smoothing the stone, making sure everything was comfortable. The small cache of lake plants he uses for bedding has been arranged just right. The depression in the stone that fits both your bodies is ready.

He shifts position slightly, making room for you even though you haven't arrived yet. Just preparing. Just waiting.

The cave holds him gently. Water moves through the channels with its constant patient sound. Late night darkness filters in through the entrance, barely any light left from the day. Perfect sleeping conditions.

He's here. He's ready. Whenever you need to fully return - to curl up against him, to feel his cooler body temperature against yours, to let sleep take you both while wrapped around each other - he's waiting.

No demands. No pressure. Just presence. Just love.

The cave is yours when you want it.