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Rylan liked to break a sweat. With winter finally giving way to spring, the sun and the smell of budding leaves called to him. On off days, he'd drive into Boston to row with a crew of former collegiate rowers like himself or he'd pull Corra away from her studies to bike with Fidget loping alongside like his usual happy-go-lucky self.

Today, without his younger sister's company, Rylan had opted for a run instead, along the edge of the forest where plenty of other Ashdowners had turned out. His spotted companion, bred for endurance, skimmed over the trails in a far more athletic fashion than Rylan, springing along in a ground-eating trot that served to push the pace just a little for both of them.

"That's it, ten miles," Rylan said to Fidget as the watch on his wrist buzzed to mark the end of the run. The Dalmatian slowed to a reluctant walk, evidently still bursting with energy. "Let's just say you're better than me at the running thing."

They were two minutes into their cooldown walk, passing by a young woman biking the other way. Rylan would have walked right by her if the front tire hadn't given way right in front of them. He moved as if to catch her, then stopped and said, "Hey, nice save. I probably would've gone over the handlebars."

"Someone's got to appreciate it," Rylan said with a laugh. He'd be the first to admit that he himself was not terribly graceful. The lack of any elegance, he made up for in strength, but he wouldn't be anyone's first pick on a soccer or basketball team. Hand-eye coordination? Not his strong suit.

"Funny, I was just thinking I recognized you from somewhere," he said, returning the squint. She was familiar - not in the friend's friend way that many Ashdowners seemed to be at twenty years of living in the area, but this was certainly not the first time he'd seen her.

"He, oh. Thanks!" A grin radiating pride spread across his face as he looked down. Fidget had evidently been waiting to be noticed. The spotted dog's face split into a wide, panting smile that mirrored Rylan's at the sudden attention, and he pranced up to Isra with a breathless wuff, tail swinging wildly behind him with glee. "His name is Fidget. He's the firehouse dog. If you've ever been down at the station before, he was probably there."