[Outside the Homestead, sitting.] Patrick tucked the phone away after his comment. It was odd, using the cellphone after all the time away. It was always a challenge to re-acclimate to life in 2019. It was odd to know he had been in the future, and yet there was none of the technology or advancements that existed here, and yet he loved that life.
He had not returned because of Adrian; he trusted Newt to handle Adrian expertly. He had not returned because of the things he'd learned about himself since Newt's departure; there would be time to tell that tale. He had returned because Newt had been gone longer than Patrick expected, and he had become concerned. The fighting had gone quiet shortly after Newt's return to Repose, and Patrick had spent the previous months in Storlock, continuing his healer training, but two months was quite a long time, so he had woken up that morning and (impulsively) grabbed the stones and transported himself here.
He had not changed his clothing (which would alert Newt, who had spent enough time in Arborlon to know, that he had been training away from the main elven city), and he was currently sitting on the top step of the deck, feet upon the stone staircase that led down into greenery. Knees up, arms resting upon them, he attempted to mentally prepare himself for Repose's trials and tribulations, also for the lack of woods in this time entirely. The more time he spent with his mom's people, the more this place felt stifling in a way that went deep into the bones. The trees here, man, they felt weak compared to Arborlon.