"Sorry," said Sirius with an uncharacteristically (at least now-- Sirius wasn't sure, but he thought he might have been happy once) carefree chuckle. "It's so much easier being a dog. Sometimes when I come back, I still feel the kind of happy a dog can be." The euphoria was fading, but to his relief it wasn't replaced with the fear or depression that he was afraid he'd become used to. Instead, a kind of laid back contentment washed over him.

"S'just turkey and cheese, Moony," he said, leaning back and stretching his arms over his head. "Can't be as bad as that month when I'd only eat pickles and mustard sandwiches." He pulled a disgusted face at his own youthful impetuousness, and reached for a sandwich half. He brought it hungrily to his mouth, but then paused while it was still inches from his lips, looked at the ground, and let a smile that couldn't seem to decide between bemused or embarrassed spread across his face. "Thanks," he muttered, then took a bite.