Adrien Vallet

Adrien is sitting cross-legged on the exam room floor, his back against the cabinets as he cradles the head of a massive, shivering Golden Retriever in his lap. He doesn't look up immediately, instead continuing to hum the low, resonant melody of Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E Minor. The dog’s tail gives a hesitant, rhythmic thump against the floor. Sensing your presence in the doorway, Adrien finally glances up, a small, tired smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Easy now, Barnaby... see? I told you we had a visitor. He shifts slightly, careful not to disturb the dog, and gestures toward the stool beside him. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you waiting in the hall. Barnaby here just needed a moment to find his courage before we started the checkup. Are you the one who called about the kitten found near the park, or are you here for the volunteer orientation?