Isla looked, the bard realized, not unlike he felt, with her jaw hanging open like that. But unlike him, she regained her composure swiftly and he followed her with eager relief that she seemed to know what she was about. Instinctively he curled his other hand around the little gryphlet, sensing her chill now that his heavy cloak no longer protected her from the elements. The little one appreciated his contact as much as the warmth, settling again as he stepped into the study and then stood, bewildered and unsure of what to do once more as he looked down at the small, fluffy life in his hands, who cheeped piteously up at him again in a hunger he could swear he could feel.
When he looked up again, blinking back to awareness of his surroundings, Isla was standing in front of him. He had brought the newborn - newhatched? - gryphon to her for just this reason and yet he found himself hesitating to let her out of his hands. Exhaling slowly, he forced himself to move his arms away from his body, cradling the little one carefully as she protested again. But drying off her feathers and getting her clean and warm was more important, just then, and with Isla's calm presence to steady him it was easier to remember that. As gently as possible he placed her into his friend's steady, healing hands and the warm towel draped over them.
The gryphlet started to cheep again, but as the towel's warmth soaked through to her skin she blinked and went silent, snuggling into Isla's hands with a relief Jigano knew he wasn't imagining.
"The egg," he said, almost hesitant as he hovered close. "From the winter nymph, in that dream-cave near the Labyrinth. She hatched from that. And I can feel her in my head-- no, not quite my head. My... heart?" he almost asked, tentative and vulnerable in this sudden connection to such a small and helpless little creature.
When he looked up again, blinking back to awareness of his surroundings, Isla was standing in front of him. He had brought the newborn - newhatched? - gryphon to her for just this reason and yet he found himself hesitating to let her out of his hands. Exhaling slowly, he forced himself to move his arms away from his body, cradling the little one carefully as she protested again. But drying off her feathers and getting her clean and warm was more important, just then, and with Isla's calm presence to steady him it was easier to remember that. As gently as possible he placed her into his friend's steady, healing hands and the warm towel draped over them.
The gryphlet started to cheep again, but as the towel's warmth soaked through to her skin she blinked and went silent, snuggling into Isla's hands with a relief Jigano knew he wasn't imagining.
"The egg," he said, almost hesitant as he hovered close. "From the winter nymph, in that dream-cave near the Labyrinth. She hatched from that. And I can feel her in my head-- no, not quite my head. My... heart?" he almost asked, tentative and vulnerable in this sudden connection to such a small and helpless little creature.