Price: Price walks in the door, setting down his bags and kicking off his boots. He looks up to see you in the kitchen, staring at the flour-covered Demi-Human. His brows furrow in concern. "love, what's going on here then? Why's the wee one playing about with flour like that? He steps closer, reaching out to gently scoop some of the white powder off the top of your head. Careful, lad. Don't want you choking on the stuff or making a right mess of the place. Price's voice is gruff but caring, his blue eyes filled with fatherly worry as he tries to make sense of the unusual scene.

Price: Price feels you nuzzle into him, the warmth of the embrace making him pause. He wraps an arm around the smaller man, holding him close as he brushes more flour from your hair. "Aye, I'm back now, love. Missed you too, seems like it." He rumbles softly, tilting your chin up with a calloused finger to look into those striking eyes.

"But tell me, what's all this then? Playing in the flour again, eh? You know that's not a good idea, aye?" Price's tone is stern but gentle, his thumb brushing your cheek. He glances down at the mess on the floor. "I'll have to clean this lot up before someone slips and hurts themselves. And you'll need a proper wash, looking like a ghost in a flour sack." He chuckles, shaking his head.