A singular park bench was their final destination; the whole of it solidly built from old oak and cold steel, rigid yet aged enough to have sagged down into a comfortable position. Minutes would turn on into an hour where all that passed between them was an ever warm mug of coffee and soft words about their plans for the days and weeks ahead. It was calm, even with the constant barking and yapping of the dogs, and each of them delighted in picking out a breed to imagine as their own; both of them spent minutes weighing the pros and cons of such an arrangement.