Gabriella
That wasn't a taunt. No meanness tinted the way Dallas remarked upon Max keeping house or managing the kitchen. Dallas spoke with real respect. 

Max wondered if Dallas had ever thought on having kids, or on settling down at all. Fathers loved to snuff out anything soft. Max figured they must have thought, somehow, that was how to protect their sons, how to fortify them for the world. For all his rough edges, though, Dallas had so quickly seen and appreciated the firm resolve inherent to Max's gentleness. What a gift that would be to a son, if Dallas ever stumbled into having one.

"I'm no *Tyrant*, but if those gentleman prefer a timely supper, well, they know when to take direction," Max said with a grin. "Don't worry yourself, Dally. I'll go easy on you. You're learnin'." 

And the grin turned lopsided and warm when Dallas put his hand on his head, mussing his hair like they really were old pals. Might as well have been. Talking down a pair of apparitions in the woods the day following a mysterious attack on their community granted them license to skip a few steps in the pleasantries department. 

What all *Had* Dallas seen in his time? Wasn't that all the more reason to make sure he was safe now? What was the point of sharing a community if they couldn't all step in and take care of one another?

They reached the bend in the road. Max felt a little ache at the prospect of parting ways, like maybe he might be able to come up with some sort of reason for Dallas to spend the afternoon doing something, too. 

But Dallas was a busy man, and he worked hard, and Max could wait 'til Sunday.

"I branch off this way. And you'll have to tolerate my mother hen fussing a moment longer so I can tell you that, if you *Do* Find yourself feelin' off-kilter or you just don't wanna be alone what with everything goin' on, I'm around with a pot of coffee or tea to put on the stove. Just because you live farther out don't mean you ain't a neighbor, Dallas Sinclair."
Julie
Dallas had seen an awful lot in his time. Things he'd rather not dredge up; he wondered if, in the same amount of years they'd lived, that Max had seen things like he had. Sincerely, he hoped Max would never know the things he'd known; the grief, the agony. 

Perhaps he'd been a little lonelier than he'd realized. He wasn't sure when that had happened; he'd assumed that he was pretty content with being on his own. He had always told himself that— maybe he missed Addie more than he realized. It wasn't that Max reminded him of her; no, she was a breed all her own. She was full of rage, tantrums, fits and screams. She was vindictive where Max was... Well, he was tenderness. But perhaps it was wanting to *Protect* That Dallas missed... Perhaps he wasn't far off the mark. 

But he wasn't sure if Max would understand that from him. Would anyone? Was he allowed to show that kind of emotion, besides an affectionate shoulder punch or ruffling up hair? "Maybe I'll have to take ya up on that," He said, a rare smile stretching across his lips as he raised an eyebrow. It was almost shy, and a bit awkward; like his mouth wasn't used to making that specific expression. 

"You sure are neighborly," He said to him, before nodding his head. "You get on home now, before them spirits come track you down to play hopscotch or sumn," He said, before turning slowly on his heel to head back where he came from. He paused a moment and turned back over his shoulder. 

"You sure you don't want me bringing none of them biscuits over on Sunday?" He asked him, turning fully around but continuing to walk backward.
Gabriella
Dallas had a nice smile. It was just a shame he didn't wear one more often. But, well, they could work on that. Seemed they'd have the time. Wasn't that a nice thought?

Max laughed as Dallas called back to him, walking backwards down the road. With an eye roll and a shake of his head, he shot back, "You can bring your biscuits if you're prepared for a taste test against mine. Fair warnin', Dally, I wouldn't even bank on a sympathy vote from my brother's hound. Now get outta here! You're gonna fall on your ass if you don't watch where you're goin'!"

Smile softening, Max watched Dallas go a few more paces before he turned, too, to walk the path to his own doorstep. He glanced at the goldenseal in his hand, the one bundle he'd managed to hold onto.

Christ. What a morning.