Texting Henry
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My roommate says a dog ate one of the pages of his William Tell report - may need help playing dogcatcher.
It gave him a headache; the sad thing was, he knew if he spoke plainly, the fossill would misconstrue the message with meanings that weren't there.
[banner]zilker[/banner]
When the text arrived, it took Henry a few seconds to process it entirely. This was from the man who wasn't exactly the secretive Guardian he should be, so Henry wasn't above thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was being sent to catch a literal dog. Sometimes the best secret is hidden in plain sight.
Another man might have smiled that the Epopt was learning to communicate outside his boundaries. Henry simply took the coding for granted, a part of life. His mind tried to read a half-dozen messages into the text, settling on the most likely.
He entered a response, slowly. Text messages were far from his forte. After all, they were hard to cypher with his usual tricks.
Coming Home Quickly. Home Quickly. H.Q. Fido will puke. There was little else to add, really. Henry resisted the urge to add something about Zilker's roommate. Oh, this wasn't going to be fun. Then again, whan was it ever?
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