They haven't quite made plans for the day, but Sirius is bored and in the neighborhood, trotting about on four feet, and he takes the turn toward Kieren's flat, his tail wagging. It's a good move, he discovers, when he realizes he's caught Kieren's familiar scent and he runs a bit faster, eager to catch up.

But when he takes the turn into the actual complex to find Kieren sitting curled up against what looks like a gravestone, he stops short, his stomach plummeting. Why there's a gravestone in the front garden of an apartment complex, he hasn't a clue. But it can't be good.

Letting out a soft whine, he steps closer then. His eyesight is about the only sense that suffers when he's in this form and it's some moments before he can make out the words on the stone, make out the name. And then he suddenly knows exactly what it is he's seeing and he rushes close, licking at the skin of Kieren's cheek as he nuzzles with a soft, plaintive whine.