[Ever so slightly, D's brows pinch in the middle of his forehead. This is one of the first motions to ruin the unnerving perfection of his face.

His rusty eyes drop to his lap; he's looking under the table at the dog near his feet. There still isn't any movement from him yet. He does not pet, or recoil. It's strange to have an animal not fearfully avoid him because of the heavy patriarchal doom and gloom hanging over his head. After a moment, he turns his bare left hand over while it rests against his thigh, offering the palm politely.

It helps to keep him from intensely giving Gray his total attention.]

Yes, it's in the backyard.

[He feels a bit bad. The thing is barely a horse, if honest. Someone who likes animals... he doesn't want them to be disappointed. So he adds:]

It is a equine cyborg. They are more dependable where I'm from than teleporters and cars.

[And make better companionship, too.]