.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
06-02-2014, 04:17 PM
Though he doesn't seem to acknowledge her presence, so wrapped up is he in his sorrows, she notices the tiny changes, the small sounds that mean he knows she is there. That he doesn't shrug her off or move away is more than enough encouragement for her to stay. Waiting, patient. An ear is angled to listen to his weeping, waiting for the tears to subside, as she allows herself to sink more fully against him and rest her muzzle near his withers. Even if she knew what was wrong, she didn't know how to fix how he felt. There were no words in her vocabulary, no memories of conversations held by older acquaintances and family, to help her now.
But then the weeping shifted to laughing, and she glanced up at him with a concerned expression. This was not happy laughter, for it resounded with the same emotional pain that his crying had. But with the laughter came an uncoiling of his body that was promising. She lifted her head to watch him, silent still, observing the vacancy in which he gazed out at the expanse of dirt and sky. Her wing that wasn't carefully pressed beneath her against the dirt shifted, rustling softly in the only expression of her own unease.
Yet the laughter was shorter lived than his tears, and it was with its cessation that she extended her neck over his shoulder to bring her muzzle closer to his. Only now did she want to ask 'Are you okay?', but wasn't sure she wanted to hear his answer. But the opportunity flitted away from her when he began speaking instead. "I'm an idiot, an absolute hopeless fool." She was quiet a moment, ruminating over his statement, deciding what she should say. Finally, she spoke. "Do you want to tell me about it?" Or continue behaving like the fool you claim to be?
But then the weeping shifted to laughing, and she glanced up at him with a concerned expression. This was not happy laughter, for it resounded with the same emotional pain that his crying had. But with the laughter came an uncoiling of his body that was promising. She lifted her head to watch him, silent still, observing the vacancy in which he gazed out at the expanse of dirt and sky. Her wing that wasn't carefully pressed beneath her against the dirt shifted, rustling softly in the only expression of her own unease.
Yet the laughter was shorter lived than his tears, and it was with its cessation that she extended her neck over his shoulder to bring her muzzle closer to his. Only now did she want to ask 'Are you okay?', but wasn't sure she wanted to hear his answer. But the opportunity flitted away from her when he began speaking instead. "I'm an idiot, an absolute hopeless fool." She was quiet a moment, ruminating over his statement, deciding what she should say. Finally, she spoke. "Do you want to tell me about it?" Or continue behaving like the fool you claim to be?
