#weeping

-- there's the deed to his old home finally safe, tucked away in the saddlebag of his bike. One last round, for old times sale, before he heads back to New York or maybe out West to clear his head.

Zitkas trunk is heavy on his shoulder, thoughts swirling about a life on the road and then the roots he's ripped up again and again. He could stay with the circus, could travel with them for a season or two. Get back to the spotlight.

He's gotten too much of a knack for saving people to let himself cool his heels on the limelight swelter.

Speaking of- there's a baby crying, some girl with harsh eyes and an attempt at a soft touch, bouncing the kid in her arms. The ages don't quite match up and, yeah he's always been too good at saving people, hasn't he?

It's a soft hum, gently wrapped fingers around Zitkas trunk. "You're not really supposed to be back here." There's a question hidden in there:

Seen plenty of runaways crawl back to the pen or backstage, offering strong arms or animal handling skills in exchange for a chance to *get away*. (Hell, that's how Pa ended up joining and meeting Ma, wasn't it? Some train hopper who snuck past Zeb the Strongman and impressed him with the wit and knot tying skills)

"It's okay though, I own the place now so I'll make an exception." He's in a good mood. Or, actually a horrible mood but it's the thing, shoving it down, make someone else smile and wonder and that can become his own happiness, right?

Two notes:

1. AI is the worst way I could have found out

“In any case, I know that the things occupying the minds of young men in Russia are the most foolish things imaginable. Yet among these Russian youths, there is one whom I love very much: Alyosha. [...] I greatly enjoy talking with you, Alyosha, because I have no friends. I am trying to draw closer to you.”