Mm. [ —another murmur of a reply, an answer but not-quite. He is much too-taken with the lingering warmth of Alice's hand atop his shoulder (fleeting though it had been, he cannot remember a time when she'd initiated touch between them), and the softness of Cheshire's ears brushing against his outstretched fingertips. His radiant Lady... is happy, isn't she? From gentle sound of her laugh, to the way she hovers beside him; how she has brought home a new addition to their household—this is Alice at peace, at ease, and this... is also Sion hesitant, perhaps nervous, of the permanence which the kitten suggests. (How silly). ]

Photographs of Gammon— [ Ever mindful of Cheshire, he brings his map of Cochrane to the surface with a rustle, a shift of parchment pages. ] —which I had the pleasure of taking myself when answering the royal family's call. [ Here, he gestures to another photograph. ]

The Taslo Mountain Range, as illustrated...

[ Oh.

It is illustrated beneath four tiny paws, Cheshire somehow taken to following the motions of his hand, padding along wherever Sion's flourishing gestures lead. ]

...by the gentleman of the hour himself. [ Huffing slightly, Sion puffs his cheeks before...! Gingerly, gently, scooping Cheshire up, holding the kitten safe and sound in the palms of his hands. ]

I am sorry, to have forgotten him. [ A soft smile playing upon his lips, he leans just a bit closer to Alice (does she possess a gravitational pull...?) ] Welcome home, Cheshire.

[ A fine name, it is. ]

And welcome home, Alice. [ From his perch atop a chair, he looks to her, quite nearly at eye-level. ] If I wasn't before, I am certainly relaxed now, even if I should not be familiar with cats.