Terry had done his job well. Rolf felt confident in public for, perhaps, the first time since he'd been an uncontestable adult. Of course, it wasn't the same as when he was in the field with animals. There he could read and understand their languages; their credulity was clear. People were a different matter altogether for him on the best of days. But on Halloween ... when all were happy to hide behind costumes and alternate personas, he knew that he could simply smile and have fun. And he knew he looked good.
Terry's sugar skull painting was delicate and precise; they had discussed its meaning and importance when he was painting it, too. He wondered if it was because he felt like he was standing in honor of all his relatives and their love which had gone before him. He also wondered if it was because he felt loved and looked after. He felt like he belonged into the world with Terry and with Brie. And it made him smile, even as he gave the punch in his hand a quizzical glance.
How was he supposed to drink without smudging his make up?