said too much ♡ joining

[⚝ GRAVEYARD]

..
Caboose didn't like being alone. This was partly because of what his teammates had taught him. Caboose should not be on his own because he was accidentally dangerous to himself and those around him and he did not know how to take care of himself. So it's by mistake that the man had been alone and then subsequently ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Despite all of this, Caboose was alone, and he did not understand why? His helmet is loose and doesn't fit on his head, and while Caboose does not like it, he will not take it off, because he is not supposed to. He always got yelled at for taking it off, so he didn't.
.
There is something to be said about how easily Caboose takes to his new form. He stumbles and trips and amazes over his paws until he forgets that he used to not have paws. But, in a way, Caboose appears more suited for his clumsy life as a dog. He does not accidentally shoot people, because he does not have a gun. Nor does he shoot confetti, because he does not have Freckles. He misses Freckles, and he misses Church. But, Caboose is nothing if not adaptable, and it's not long before the Retriever manages to find himself ... somewhere. There are trees and mountains and Caboose thinks he likes it. He likes the snow, too!! As unpleasant as it is on his paws, he scarcely notices, eyes round under his helmet as he ducks into it.
.. It feels nice! A yip makes its way from his throat, playful and yet echoing oddly, with his maw covered by his helmet. Tail wagging, he manages to wriggle under the mound of snow. He thinks it's a shame that he doesn't have Church to play with, and there's a tug of sadness in his chest before it's quickly forgotten, rolling and digging. Caboose had never seen snow before, except on that mountain, when Washingtub-Washington joined their team. And he hadn't had time to play or appreciate it because peopl were getting hurt and Church was gone.
.. Caboose does not think he should like the snow, but he does anyways.
//i am leGALLY not allowed to set up his sub rn just shh

[SIGMUND]

Sigmund seemed to be a complete opposite to the pup, maybe besides the fact that they were both canines. For one thing, he appreciated his solitude. Loved it, even. It left him room to think- something Caboose might not do -and, after all, thinking was one of his favorite pastimes. He thought about many things many times. He especially loved thinking about the way people thought. It made him feel smart.

Caboose playing in the snow was an amusing scene. It wasn't every day a dog that wore a helmet thrashed about in the cold, after all. He couldn't say he envied the stranger, though. It was much too cold to be doing anything than sitting inside wrapped in a blanket, but there was no inside to sit in and no blankets to be wrapped up in. Well, actually, the second part wasn't true. There were plenty of blankets. The caves just made them sort of... damp and unpleasant.

Sigmund's steps crunched through the snow as he approached. Though the retriever had buried himself now, the tall man ignored that fact, addressing him as if they were eye to eye.
"Hallo," he starts, ears twitching. "What brings you to the Midnight Vale?"

[⚝ GRAVEYARD]

It was probably right to accuse Caboose of not thinking. Caboose acted on what may as well be muscle memory alone. This new situation was proving difficult for him to accustom too -- he probably would have been able to walk without tripping if only he didn't keep on thinking about how it as as a human.
The voice, however, was unexpected. Caboose lets out a soft yip of surprise, thrashing a little more obviously in attempt to shake the snow off. He comes up helmet-less, blinking at the other canine with a look of puzzlement in his eyes. There's something blank about his eyes. Not in a feral way, just a ... mentally absent way.
"Where's my head?" Is what Caboose says first, looking mildly agitated, but definitely confused. He was alwasys confused. He wore the helmet so often that he got them mixed up, sometimes. The retriever immediately burrows back into the snow, kicking up white powder in his wake until his paw sharply hits his helmet. He makes a strange sort of whine in his throat, instinctive, but otherwise does not react. He wriggles his head into the helmet, and then pokes back up out of the snow mound, snow dropping from his helmet as gravity shifted. The retriever perks up as his vision clears with the snow.
"HELLO!!!!" Caboose shouts, at the top of his lungs. His tail is wagging violently, shaking snow loose. He doesn't have appeared to have noticed Sigmund until this moment, his appearance from the snow having been more instinctual than actually noticing. "I am ... CABOOSE!! I do not know where I am. Do you know where my friends are? I lost them in the boom-boom ... thingy," Caboose greets, rapid-fire. He misses people. He misses his friends. He forgot the word for ... that. Boom-boom. ... Oh! "THE EXPLOSION!!" He yells, more excitement at remembering than anything else. This is potentially concerning. Sigmund should probably be thankful the helmet and snow is muffling Caboose's voice.