Bird's enthusiastic greeting settled Zero's uncertainty considerably: certainly things couldn't be too bad if the kitsune was so excited, right? But even as he thought it the lightning boy knew he was wrong- that look, that sadness in his smaller friend's wide gaze, was definitely real. But at least Bird was glad to see him, which meant maybe Bird thought he could help, which meant maybe he could help, which was really all he wanted to do.

He tried to tell her it would be OK, but she was even quicker to say no. The boy's ears tipped back into his mane, miserable confusion filling him again. Why? Why did someone so sweet and nice and little have to be so sad? And what was he supposed to do about it? The boy searched his mind frantically, trying to think of what he would do- talk to Ma, probably. Even at his advanced* age, Zero was a firm subscriber of the belief that Ma's had answers to everything (except Da's- when it came to them, Ma just made everything way more complicated), but Zahra's Ma never seemed to be around.

And Zero had a sinking, terrible suspicion as to why, but it wasn't something he ever wanted to really think about, because the idea that Mas could ever not be around forever was, well... the worst.

I miss Ma and Da, and the boy did not know what to say, so he just pressed himself closer against her, the blue feathers of his wing holding tight to her body as he tried to ignore the fear her words rose within him. Luckily she continued on, turning her attention from the troubling thought of missing Mas. He followed her attention eagerly toward the impressive pile of stuff she seemed to always have, and the enormous silver collar hanging garishly from her neck. Truth be told the boy was very interested in the metal thing, his fascination with minerals being what it was. But even he knew not to ask questions about certain things, because he wasn't totally sure he wanted to know the answer.

Instead he looked at the feathers, and the other things, and frowned as she talked about nightmares and scary stories. That was not something Mas and Das and stuff were supposed to do, he was sure. He was beginning to wonder if he'd even like Zahra's parents. I mean, clearly there was something wrong with them, if they weren't even here. "Well why don'tcha leave all the stuff?" he demanded brashly, that same fierce protectiveness giving his voice an almost haughty tone.  "It's not like it's yours- you should be able to get your own stuff. An' I betchur Ma an' Da wouldn' want you to have scary dreams, an' they'd want you to hear good stories, an' they'd want you to go out an make your own stories, 'cus that's the whole point of growin' up." Again Zero thought of the wall of history, and how his own tale might look upon it one day. Bright, and brave, and adventurous, he imagined. Would Zahra's be one of only sadness and loss?

Not if he could help it.

Her next question brought a little bit of a smile to his face, and he let his head drop onto the ground, staring with bright eyes out into the fire. "Well..." the Lightning's son began, his voice teasing the beginning of a tale, "I've been lotsa places, doin' lotsa things... but I'm sure you don't wanna hear 'bout all that." He peered slyly at his friend, hoping that the promise of stories might draw her out of her sadness (a valiant effort for a boy so ill-versed in the world)- and by no means reluctant to share tales of his own exploits in the process.

Let it never be said that Zero was a humble boy. Well-meaning, always. But perhaps also a little bit vain.

*read: nearly two