Kisame had the broken chair's out back, in a pile. He'd put all the rotten food in a ditch, under a layer of coals, then buried them. It seemed to kill the smell.
Wet, salty dog smell was invading his nose now. Ahhh, the mutt. He ignored it, for now, had another beer and started a list.
... Wondered what it'd cost him to find out what happened to Grayson. Information always cost more than supplies... Maybe one of his books?
Hopefully Grayson was just. Home.
Repair bar, said the list.
Figure out how to get to Grayson.
He'd worked out a way, once to follow a path between worlds, but it'd only worked once and it's hurt like a son of a bitch and the guy he'd helped home had been a bit. Defective, after. A turtle without his shell or a wolf without teeth.
Kisame'd always felt really BAD about that.
He waited until he hear the crunch and wuff of eating and leaned in the door frame. Huh. Big dog.