Re: [Woods: Patrick & Newt]
Laboratories hadn't existed much in Newt's world, not before Lindmarch, and then, those that had, had been for alchemy, thaumaturgy, and potions. There wasn't any genome sequencing, no centrifuges, nothing "high-tech." Growing up, his family hadn't been about much more than each person's particular drama and, if you were the youngest as Newt was, avoiding that. His neglect hadn't come with nightmares of splinching. It was simply lonely and sad, and, like Patrick, Newt had found refuge in nature. If it was to either of his parents' dismay, he'd never know now and then they weren't interested in their children enough to even be disappointed.
Newt smiled once more, freckles on his cheeks and nose pulled oblong or scrunched up with the action. He peered from tree to tree with a confident gaze, one that never landed on Patrick. "It's a very nice world," he commented earnestly, dipping his chin down to look now at the forest floor. His fringe fell messily before his eyes, and he didn't turn his eyes upward again until everything took a dramatic, and exciting, turn.
The lankier man hadn't played American football—or football football. Quidditch, yes, but he wasn't the image of a typical athlete, he knew that. Still, he was quite active and with regularity. It wasn't difficult to keep pace with the blond man, right there, behind the dirt he kicked up. It was all rather exhilarating. Perhaps he had began to come into himself with the talk of trees, but this was more Newt's element than discussion. His focus was scalpel-precise, and he was able to track the quick-footed little beast thanks to years of practice doing just that. (Because of this, as of yet, he missed the ears.) But, he ran and he whipped out his wand. He ran a few meters ahead of Patrick, once the man stopped to catch his breath, and he looked over his shoulder, his own breathing labored.
That he was holding his wand out, aimed, was only apparent to him when Patrick named it. Still, Newt was occupied. He didn't want to scare the little thing, but if catching it was important, they could soothe it after the fact. Perhaps he had something in his case it would like to eat. "Accio!" With relatively little fanfare, the beast was lifted from the ground and began zooming back toward Newt, drawn like a magnet. He smiled over at Patrick, seemed to register the confusion on the man's face, looked at his wand, and then at the animal zipping over. "Erm—yes." Fretfully, he looked back to the rodentesque creature. "I hope we haven't terrified him too terribly."