The clearing of Jake's throat drew his attention in time for Connor to catch the stone, the round, flat shape of it fitting easily between his fingers. The smallest quirk of lips softened his face considerably as he started to roll the stone across his knuckles, back and forth with fluid ease. The question of his dog made him relax just that little bit more.

"Samoyed. I got him when he was still so little he was just a fluffy white triangle with black spots for a face so the name on his certificate's Musubi. We call 'im Riceball though. Same snack, different filling."