He found himself wishing he had three hands: one to hold the silver fox, one to almost poke it with, and the third for petting the living fox. However, sprouting a third arm wasn't in his repertoire, so Rory forsook the rather pointless activity of not-really-touching the fox charm and placed that hand on the fox's shoulders instead, gently scratching at its neck and behind the ears.
A gentle smile curved his lips as the little gryphon took the chance to climb onto her bonded, and he moved his hand out of the way for her little conquest.
He didn't know what sort of answer he expected to his questions—certainly not a verbal one, and he didn't get that, either. But what he got was.. ambiguous, sort of. The uncertainty of its flicking ears; the imploring stare before it tilted its head, and gave what could've passed for a nod. Rory grunted in response. There wasn't much else to say about it, aside from asking twenty questions that could be answered as straight yes or no. Curious as he was, he didn't feel like engaging in that sort of prying activity: it somehow felt worse than outright trying to force the fox into shifting.
Like wanting everything it hid away from him, but not admitting it.
"I'll just put this somewhere safe," he said, going through his pockets for some twine or leather cord, and he usually always carried around some work debris. It was the curse of not emptying his pockets more frequently, but in this case, it served him well. He threaded a thin cord through the ring, then rolled it up in a small piece of thin leather he found in another pocket, before tucking it all away in one he trusted to not spill it.
Content to sit out in the snow with his wordless friends, Rory put his hand on the fox's head again, scratching and stroking its jaw, cheeks, ears, neck; if he hadn't felt like his question had somehow.. done something, and if he hadn't been so acutely aware of the fact that it was an Attuned, he likely would've tried pulling the fox onto his lap and given it a good old-fashioned hug, but as it was, he remained sitting, just petting it.
A gentle smile curved his lips as the little gryphon took the chance to climb onto her bonded, and he moved his hand out of the way for her little conquest.
He didn't know what sort of answer he expected to his questions—certainly not a verbal one, and he didn't get that, either. But what he got was.. ambiguous, sort of. The uncertainty of its flicking ears; the imploring stare before it tilted its head, and gave what could've passed for a nod. Rory grunted in response. There wasn't much else to say about it, aside from asking twenty questions that could be answered as straight yes or no. Curious as he was, he didn't feel like engaging in that sort of prying activity: it somehow felt worse than outright trying to force the fox into shifting.
Like wanting everything it hid away from him, but not admitting it.
"I'll just put this somewhere safe," he said, going through his pockets for some twine or leather cord, and he usually always carried around some work debris. It was the curse of not emptying his pockets more frequently, but in this case, it served him well. He threaded a thin cord through the ring, then rolled it up in a small piece of thin leather he found in another pocket, before tucking it all away in one he trusted to not spill it.
Content to sit out in the snow with his wordless friends, Rory put his hand on the fox's head again, scratching and stroking its jaw, cheeks, ears, neck; if he hadn't felt like his question had somehow.. done something, and if he hadn't been so acutely aware of the fact that it was an Attuned, he likely would've tried pulling the fox onto his lap and given it a good old-fashioned hug, but as it was, he remained sitting, just petting it.
