First impression: bright.
Rory felt like he needed to just sit there for a while if he was to comprehend what he was seeing at all. It was just so.. unexpected. The idea that the fox had very intentionally, very specifically brought him something had been the furthest thing from his mind when he first saw the leather collar. It wasn't so much a lack of self-confidence, or even a history of never being given things (because he'd been given plenty of things, for his birthdays and the like), it was just...
Unexpected, yeah. While his heart always lit up with joy at seeing the white fox, he hadn't thought it'd bring him a present of any kind.
He didn't even know why.
Once the initial shock at being given something so nice faded he lifted his palm to inspect it closer. It was a fox, all silver, finely crafted—there was nothing crude about it, no detail forgotten, nothing that was not exactly as it was meant to be. From the tip of the nose to the inquisitive position of the ears to the fluffy tail... Gently, Rory raised it upright on his palm. It looked like it might take off at any moment, to play with its larger self.
"It's beautiful," he breathed, watching the way the snow and light played off the fine surface. "But not as b-..."
Rory trailed off, again viscerally reminded of the fact that it wasn't just a particularly intelligent and engaging fox, but a human mind behind those bright blue eyes. Someone he knew nothing of. Someone he.. someone he what?
Someone he was self-conscious of flattering, apparently. Rory's cheeks colored a little as he looked away from the real fox and back to the tiny silver one, turning it over in his palm. It even had a little ring hidden in its scruff, so that he could attach it to a chain.
In terms of singular monetary wealth, it was probably the most expensive thing Rory had ever held, but even that paled in comparison to how touched he felt at the gesture.
"Thank you," he said, quietly, but sincerely. He turned it around in his palm again, pulling his fingers out of his mitten to run them just beyond the surface of the silver, afraid of leaving marks on it. "Did you.. did you make this?"
Rory felt like he needed to just sit there for a while if he was to comprehend what he was seeing at all. It was just so.. unexpected. The idea that the fox had very intentionally, very specifically brought him something had been the furthest thing from his mind when he first saw the leather collar. It wasn't so much a lack of self-confidence, or even a history of never being given things (because he'd been given plenty of things, for his birthdays and the like), it was just...
Unexpected, yeah. While his heart always lit up with joy at seeing the white fox, he hadn't thought it'd bring him a present of any kind.
He didn't even know why.
Once the initial shock at being given something so nice faded he lifted his palm to inspect it closer. It was a fox, all silver, finely crafted—there was nothing crude about it, no detail forgotten, nothing that was not exactly as it was meant to be. From the tip of the nose to the inquisitive position of the ears to the fluffy tail... Gently, Rory raised it upright on his palm. It looked like it might take off at any moment, to play with its larger self.
"It's beautiful," he breathed, watching the way the snow and light played off the fine surface. "But not as b-..."
Rory trailed off, again viscerally reminded of the fact that it wasn't just a particularly intelligent and engaging fox, but a human mind behind those bright blue eyes. Someone he knew nothing of. Someone he.. someone he what?
Someone he was self-conscious of flattering, apparently. Rory's cheeks colored a little as he looked away from the real fox and back to the tiny silver one, turning it over in his palm. It even had a little ring hidden in its scruff, so that he could attach it to a chain.
In terms of singular monetary wealth, it was probably the most expensive thing Rory had ever held, but even that paled in comparison to how touched he felt at the gesture.
"Thank you," he said, quietly, but sincerely. He turned it around in his palm again, pulling his fingers out of his mitten to run them just beyond the surface of the silver, afraid of leaving marks on it. "Did you.. did you make this?"
