John could almost feel the monotone fraying on his nerves. He'd had the dreams again last night; bullets flying, bombs exploding, voices calling his name through the fog and the fray. They always made his leg ache, and Azell, his panther daemon, cried. For all they'd had, all they'd lost with that one stray bullet.

{We've lost so much…} She'd think to him, and he'd wipe all the tears they'd both cried away and stand.

"Up, Azell. It's a new day. There's still time to make ourselves useful." She'd sniff, and sigh, and then growl, "Bloody soldiers. Always getting themselves hurt!"

Today, on this particular unbearably boring morning, Azell ended their usual bout of self-loathing by saying, "Let's go to the park. I want to chase pigeons; they fly so fast, I can almost forget." John's eyes went unseeing for a moment, then he nodded and grabbed his cane.

"Let's go to the park."

Mike Stamford, an old university friend, also enjoyed sitting in the park on a bench, watching birds. He met John at the park and initiated a conversation. His terrier daemon, Amelindice, kept trying to entice Azell into talking while Azell ignored her and groomed. It wasn't personal; she often did this to daemons that weren't dying. They weren't really worth the effort if they were stable. Or rather, she saved her energy for those in need of it.

The humans chatted uncomfortably for several minutes until John said, "Please. Who'd want to share a flat with someone like me?" And Mike laughed.

Sherlock could see it, as soon as the short, brown-haired man with the black panther daemon stepped into the room. Mike was grinning at him like a trick pony: go on, do your trick, Holmes.

Vallen twitched with minor interest as the man and Amelindice entered, before cocking his head. The panther was ignoring them. After an initial sniff, it sat smoothly down beside the man's feet. Vallen's long thin mongoose tail was fluffing and twitching in curiosity.

{A panther... that's interesting, for once.}

"My old friend, John Watson." Mike introduced, Lindy preening in pride. Look what we've brought! Ooh, interested, aren't you?

Vallen hissed smartly at Lindy, who stuttered back a step, and Mike's smirk faltered. Sherlock noticed John's eyes narrow, and suddenly, the shadow cat rumbled with a chilling growl. The daemons quieted instantly. Sherlock smoothly inquired, "Afghanistan or Iraq?"