[No answer. Ignis and Rabbit are left waiting for nearly a quarter hour before Carlisle comes into view, plodding toward the garden, looking disheveled indeed. His usual tabard is completely missing, so ruined he's almost embarrassed to wear it. Signs of his condition remain on his clothes anyway, the front of his sweater dotted with ink just below the neck; there's also a trail of it smeared along his right sleeve, matching the bandage he usually wears on that arm. His hair is a dull grey, his skin a sickly white; his entire body is nearly colorless, save for the glowing blue of his eyes and the patches of red surrounding them, the irritation from desperate sobbing vibrant against his current pallor. There's a weight to how he walks, as though he's encumbered by his own despondence and ineptitude.

Some people maintain their emotional fortitude when faced with defeat, and Carlisle Longinmouth is not one of those people; if the way he immediately perks up when he spots Rabbit in Ignis' arms is any indication, he doesn't maintain it in times of elation, either.]

R- Rabbit!

[The stiffness in his joints works against him as he picks up the pace, nearly tripping over his own legs as he closes the gap between himself and Kate's bespectacled beau and reaches for his beloved pet. Rabbit, normally ambivalent to Carlisle's continued presence in his life, looks in his owner's direction, and gently wriggles in Ignis' grasp.]

Where have you been?! I looked everywhere, and you- you know better than to wander off when—!

[Carlisle catches that he's about to go into a hundred words all meant for Rabbit when his rescuer is standing right there, and belatedly remembers the manners he'd cast aside in his panic.]

S- sorry. I mean, thank you. For returning him. And sorry. But thank you, certainly, ah... Ignis. When I couldn't find him, I- I thought the worst.

[After all, that's just about what happened to him.]