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The four had scattered, as was their wont both before and after missions, throughout Porta Praetoria. Alakhai skulked off to the Resistance smiths and leatherworkers to repair the worst of the damage Castrum Abania had done to her gear, twirling one of her throwing knives through the fingers of her right hand as did. Heron headed in the direction of the Immortal Flames encampment to no doubt locate whatever member of her giant brood of cousins was present with them, while Rereha trotted along with her, although in the lalafell's case it was probably to veer off at some point and bat her eyelashes at Vice Marshal Pipin Tarupin. Synnove instead leisurely made her way toward the blue banners of Ishgard, grimoire thumping against her thigh rhythmically as she walked and Tyr and Ivar faithfully trailing in her wake.
Galette, however, bounded before her, deftly weaving her way through the Ishgardian knights, and stopped briefly to chirp hello to Lucia and accept a quick scratch behind the ears from the knight. Just as quick, she darted over to the Lord Commander, sat up on her hind legs while balancing with her tails, and waved her front paws at him as she made her “pick me up!” noises.
Aymeric laughed and obliged, leaning down to carefully grasp the carbuncle around the middle as he lifted her. “Hello to you, too, little troublemaker,” he said. Galette chirruped and used her new position in his arms to scramble up his armor and settle around his neck and shoulders. Aymeric laughed again, scratching under the carbuncle’s chin until she made her wind chime-like purr and her tails thumped against his armor.
Synnove caught up at last, smiling broadly and standing briefly on tiptoe to give the Lord Commander a quick kiss to his cheek, to Aymeric's surprised delight. Tyr, meanwhile, had pealed off to shove his face into Lucia's hip and receive a thorough scritching from his favorite knight, whereas his ruby brother glared disapprovingly at Aymeric from behind their mama's legs.
The summoner took a step away from her lover, put her hands on her hips, and narrowed her eyes in mock anger at Galette. “Rude,” she said. “Get your own.”
Galette merely chittered smugly down at her mama.