On one hand, Arven Fisk had put in the effort — clean-shaven, straight-backed, relatively well-dressed — but on the other hand, he’d brought a ferret to dinner. The Fisks had never met Virgil before, but he was was a good pet and a fine friend. He was long, cuddly, and didn’t smell nearly as bad as he had before Arven had cast a fragrant little charm on that floofy caramel coat. As Arven ascended the steps to the handsome house of Brannon Fisk in high North Bartonburg, Virgil wrapped himself about the tall fellow’s neck like a curious scarf.

Arven pulled the doorbell, cutting a lone figure against the early sunset behind him, and a faint smile twinkled in his eyes. It was perhaps difficult to believe that a man who came home no more than once a year could miss his family, but he did. He missed his family, always — just in his own, peculiar way. Thoughts of them did not follow him around the globe, but when the time came to see them once more, there was nowhere he’d rather be than right here, right now, on these sunlit steps in North Bartonburg, awaiting the sight of their faces.

Brannon Fisk Konstantin Fisk @"Zelda Fisk" Ari Fisk Dionisia Fisk Roslyn Ross Justin Ross — All family likely to be invited by Brannon Fisk’s household for dinner are welcome to jump in this thread any time. :)