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"It's no problem, really," Aiden found himself saying, trying to reassure the girl. Was she blushing? Why was she blushing? Was she upset that her dog had come so close to a total stranger? It wasn't like dogs had perfect personal bubble sensing systems. Dogs went near people. It was part of what dogs did.

Rufus, huh? Aiden considered the dog. He wasn't entirely sure that he'd name the dog Rufus himself, but to each their own. That was a very useful phrase and mentality, you know. If everyone left everyone else to their own doings, things would be so much simpler and less stressful. And less violent and dangerous. Violent and dangerous weren't good qualities for the world. This dog... showed no signs of being violent and dangerous. Slobbery and friendly, sure. It seemed a bit hard to expect anything more dangerous than a violent head-shaking that would splatter drool everywhere.

"You want me to throw it?" he asked the dog in all seriousness. "Throw the stick?" He moved slowly to take the stick, just in case the dog changed his mind about this whole friendly business and just felt like ripping his face off, and then gave it a firm flick well away from anyone or anything noticeable. As the dog sprang off after it, Aiden pushed himself to his feet. Talking to someone while sprawled on the ground wasn't very polite, and it was quite awkward too.

Brushing bits of grass and dirt from his shorts and the elbows of his sleeves, he managed a small smile for the girl. Liz, huh? Probably short for some sort of Elizabeth or something. Seemed more likely. "I'm Aiden," he said, twitching a shoulder in lieu of gesturing. "So... you a student here?" he asked lamely, trying to make himself be at all social and keep the conversation going.

Somewhere between late afternoon and early evening, the heat broken by the previous night's thundering rain but already returning as the ground underfoot baked solid once again, a young mutant sat perched on a slightly raised root of a tree at the edge of a small grove, trying to keep from getting too damp from the remaining mud and only borderline succeeding in sketching an amphibious aerial-aquatic battle between a dragon and a kelpie while avoiding toppling both himself and his sketchbook onto the ground with the quick movements of his pencil-wielding arm.

As might be expected, even with Aiden's balance and self-awareness the situation could remain stable for only so long, and eventually he was distracted enough by considering whether or not a line was appropriately placed and shaped to be just a little bit too slow in correcting his posture and balance when his weight shifted on the way to the next pencil stroke. He went sideways. His sketchbook went rather more forwards, tumbling and scattering loose pages across the spread of pasty mud while his pencil stuck out of the ground at an angle, a defiant flagless post refusing to lie down even when its usefulness was smeared thick with dirt.

Aiden himself rolled fairly easily, and came up again with only a little dirt smeared across his shoulders and upper back, but he was on the ground again soon enough. See, the page he had been working on was facing down. In the wettest patch of mud within several dozen feet. He only stared in horror for a moment or two, though, and then clued in and shot forward to snatch it out of the dirt. His sketch was indeed ruined, a sodden brown smear dripping clumps of liquid mud. He stared at it, and then forlornly crept back onto his root to try to dab the mud away with a corner of his long-sleeved shirt.

Thump.

Blinking awake at the unexpected sound, Aiden took a few moments to realize both that he had started to drowse off in the heat and that something had hit the ground near him. A vague rumble of distant sound drew his attention far enough up and out for him to catch sight of a large dark racing towards him. Rather than fear, his first reaction was confused wonder.

No, wait, this dog was way too young. He was also way too invested in whatever it was he was chasing - the dog he had grown up with was a fat old fart who hadn't chased anything more than a few feet in years. This was a dog in much better shape and mood. Aiden rolled into a sitting position as the dog's focus became more clear and he noticed a stick. Playing fetch, was he?

Pushing a stray chunk of sweat-soaked hair around the corner of his sunglasses, he glanced around for a humanoid person he could associate with the dog. Even here, he wasn't going to assume that the dog was a mutant. He found it hard to believe that anyone, even an animal shifter, would get so invested in canine behaviour as to play fetch with a stick. It was far harder to believe that than it was to pick out the person likely associated with the dog, a girl running towards him. He raised a hand slightly. "It's all right," he said quietly. "He's not bothering me." He paused, assuming that she would collect the dog and move on. Except he was supposed to be trying to be more social and fit in better, wasn't he? This was a good opportunity. Even if he had to mentally poke himself a few times before he could open his mouth again. "What's his name?"

Sure! I even have an idea for it already, but won't have time to post until this evening. Already running a little late for work XD

Aiden grew up with a shepherd he wasn't too attached, but that could either make him cry or cheer him up XD not sure, and I think either one might be able to work?

He might not be sure how to respond to being looked after, but he could sure benefit from a little guidance!

Aiden cringed in apology. Even without her words even he could tell that he hadn't handled that nicely at all. He shifted awkwardly as she tried to explain... her mutation? Well... this was a place for them. But a mutation that, er, pointed things out? How did that even work? Was there some mini personality in her head that talked about what she saw to her? Because Aiden was pretty sure that was diagnosable and not related to being a mutant.

Still, he really owed her for snapping at her, so he tried to sort out what she had said. Hyper awareness. So, whatever the particular mechanism (which was probably the only interesting thing about mutations), she noticed everything. Well, he was probably screwed. He was self-aware enough to know he wasn't that good at hiding things. He was really only passable enough for adults so worn out with their horrible jobs that they really didn't notice anything at all anymore.

He scrubbed a hand across his face. "Sounds like you should interview people for the cops," he said with a reasonable amount of levity, making a last-ditch effort to improve the situation. "Figure you're better than one of those fancy old-looking lie detector things?" Cop stories always used lie detectors, but they really didn't look like much. Ai figured they had a proper name too, but he couldn't remember it. 'Lie detector' worked well enough, didn't it?

"I'm... sorry," he said awkwardly. "Like I said... I don't do well with people. I always mess things up, and being here and tired and everything... doesn't help." He pulled the remote back to himself and tried to see the buttons through his sunglasses. "You can stay here. I don't think the T.V. was helping anyway. Just making noise."