[Oh, dear. Suddenly, he knows intimately well what the professors he'd once had felt catching him doing -- catching him not studying. That is, distinctly, the reaction of someone who wishes he had not simply strolled back into her life.

It's not his first time. Of course, he isn't inclined to believe that feeling gets easier to swallow with age. Or repetition.

How awkward.

He brings his hands together in front of him, rubbing his knuckles.]

Right. [To her credit, she is far from the last who seems surprised by his intrusion into their domain. Is he truly the only one who explores them? Who wouldn't be fascinated with what other worlds those connected to the Singularity would create for themselves?

Worlds like, apparently, a breezy little abode called New Hampshire.]

I thought I'd stop by, since I was curious, you know... but, ah, I can go. I needn't interrupt your work. [He turns, digging into the saddlebag of his horse, who's begun pawing at the ground nervously. Out he pulls a bottle of wine, with a label sporting the same Sun emblem painted across his horse. He offers it to her.] Here. A sort of homewarming gift for your New Hampshire.