Even as a greeting, Bull barely speaks. He looks away behind Dorian, then back at the ocean. He's quiet, contemplative, forlorn. Dorian steps closer, raises one hand to Bull's arm as he moves to stand in front of him, putting himself directly in the Bull's line of sight.

"There is something," Dorian murmurs, a confirmation for himself. He tries not to feel hurt, but doesn't quite succeed. They'd agreed that they would communicate, hadn't they? That they wouldn't hide things from one another? Still, he's certain that Bull must have his reasons.

"You can tell me, Bull."