The blond was in shock. Oh, there was no doubt now that he had found the proof he’d sought, if not the body itself. A friend, then. Perhaps a lover? Or a family member? But someone he had known. Someone who meant a great deal to him.
Someone who’s death hurt him, far more deeply than the knife in his lap could have.
Jigano whimpered, pressing up into the too-brief caress with a surge that would have surprised him if he wasn’t so focused on Rory’s pain. But it wasn’t enough, the human’s attention focused on the armor, mittened hands holding it gently, knowingly. It hurt to see him like that, helpless to ease the pain of a friend—
But neither did the man need distraction. He had lost someone today, and what he needed… was something no mortal could give. Jigano, even at his strongest, couldn’t turn back the hands of time. Perhaps the person had been killed before he’d even arrived. And Rory deserved his grief, and the right to mourn.
But that didn’t mean he had to be alone.
Quietly, ears flat with worry and tail tucked, Jigano settled himself tightly against the blond’s thigh. It might have been an intimacy in another situation, something he would have judged and weighed carefully before making a conscious decision to do. In this moment, though, he acted on instinct, giving what comfort he could to someone who needed it far more than he needed to worry about his pride, or his past, or old guilt.
Ears perked up and he turned his head at the sound of Rory’s voice, listening and remembering the name he was given. It was the least he could do, and perhaps he could learn something more in town, in a shape both more and less limited. But for now—
He rested his chin on Rory’s knee, ears slowly sinking back. Blue eyes looked up at his friend for a moment and then back to the Spire. The source of the untimely death beneath the snow, not so very far from where the man knelt. Jigano licked his nose unhappily and whined again, softly, but refused to leave the man while he was bleeding so badly – not where Isla could bandage it, but inside, where only time could reach.
Someone who’s death hurt him, far more deeply than the knife in his lap could have.
Jigano whimpered, pressing up into the too-brief caress with a surge that would have surprised him if he wasn’t so focused on Rory’s pain. But it wasn’t enough, the human’s attention focused on the armor, mittened hands holding it gently, knowingly. It hurt to see him like that, helpless to ease the pain of a friend—
But neither did the man need distraction. He had lost someone today, and what he needed… was something no mortal could give. Jigano, even at his strongest, couldn’t turn back the hands of time. Perhaps the person had been killed before he’d even arrived. And Rory deserved his grief, and the right to mourn.
But that didn’t mean he had to be alone.
Quietly, ears flat with worry and tail tucked, Jigano settled himself tightly against the blond’s thigh. It might have been an intimacy in another situation, something he would have judged and weighed carefully before making a conscious decision to do. In this moment, though, he acted on instinct, giving what comfort he could to someone who needed it far more than he needed to worry about his pride, or his past, or old guilt.
Ears perked up and he turned his head at the sound of Rory’s voice, listening and remembering the name he was given. It was the least he could do, and perhaps he could learn something more in town, in a shape both more and less limited. But for now—
He rested his chin on Rory’s knee, ears slowly sinking back. Blue eyes looked up at his friend for a moment and then back to the Spire. The source of the untimely death beneath the snow, not so very far from where the man knelt. Jigano licked his nose unhappily and whined again, softly, but refused to leave the man while he was bleeding so badly – not where Isla could bandage it, but inside, where only time could reach.
