Isuma was perfectly happy to be petted and adored, and she purred reassuringly as the conversation that murmured by over her head turned serious. She might not know the words or the more complex things they spoke of, but she knew tone, and emotions, and could tell that Phoebe was upset. She purred harder in response, trying to let the human girl know that, now that Isuma was there, things would be alright.
The midwife's tale meant far more to Jigano, who listened with solemn sympathy, though at her defense of Roana he had to hide a faint grimace. Mostly he knew her as the woman who would rather have seen her friend Ronin bleeding out in the snow than accept help from a non-Northhavener, but this was neither the time nor place for that conversation. Certainly not with Phoebe, who was having a hard enough time opening up. "Not all his fault, no," Jigano agreed. "And neither here nor there, in regards to what's affecting you, is it?"
Indeed, it was not, and as she continued her explanation Isuma tried to catch one of her fingers to nibble gently on it. It would tickle, if Phoebe let her, the gryphon's small owl beak careful with play, as her long fluffy tail lashed and swiped across Jigano's thigh. "I am sorry to hear about his loss," Jigano said formally, but the quiet words were sincere in spite of their almost ritual nature. She continued and he smoothed away a frown before it could form as she detailed a relationship broken in more ways than one... one person grieving and unable to function, another being handed responsibilities she had never agreed to.
And then it came to the day of the Spire attack and this time Jigano did wince, nodding in understanding. As the tears began to fall in large crystal droplets that soaked into her shirt and Isuma's fur, the gryphlet rolled into her front again and rose up to place her foreclaws on Phoebe's shirt, reep?ing worry at the girl's distress. Jigano folded his hands in his lap, not feeling like they were close enough for him to reach out and touch her, even in comfort, but he tried instead to distract and comfort with words. There was much he could have said, but he chose to start at the end, first. "And if you could have changed things about him?" he asked, gently. "What did he need to change about himself, for you to be happy?" He gave a little shake of his head to forestall her from answering too quickly. "A relationship isn't much of a partnership, if only one person is expected to change in it. Why should you expect yourself to do so, and not expect the same of him?"
The midwife's tale meant far more to Jigano, who listened with solemn sympathy, though at her defense of Roana he had to hide a faint grimace. Mostly he knew her as the woman who would rather have seen her friend Ronin bleeding out in the snow than accept help from a non-Northhavener, but this was neither the time nor place for that conversation. Certainly not with Phoebe, who was having a hard enough time opening up. "Not all his fault, no," Jigano agreed. "And neither here nor there, in regards to what's affecting you, is it?"
Indeed, it was not, and as she continued her explanation Isuma tried to catch one of her fingers to nibble gently on it. It would tickle, if Phoebe let her, the gryphon's small owl beak careful with play, as her long fluffy tail lashed and swiped across Jigano's thigh. "I am sorry to hear about his loss," Jigano said formally, but the quiet words were sincere in spite of their almost ritual nature. She continued and he smoothed away a frown before it could form as she detailed a relationship broken in more ways than one... one person grieving and unable to function, another being handed responsibilities she had never agreed to.
And then it came to the day of the Spire attack and this time Jigano did wince, nodding in understanding. As the tears began to fall in large crystal droplets that soaked into her shirt and Isuma's fur, the gryphlet rolled into her front again and rose up to place her foreclaws on Phoebe's shirt, reep?ing worry at the girl's distress. Jigano folded his hands in his lap, not feeling like they were close enough for him to reach out and touch her, even in comfort, but he tried instead to distract and comfort with words. There was much he could have said, but he chose to start at the end, first. "And if you could have changed things about him?" he asked, gently. "What did he need to change about himself, for you to be happy?" He gave a little shake of his head to forestall her from answering too quickly. "A relationship isn't much of a partnership, if only one person is expected to change in it. Why should you expect yourself to do so, and not expect the same of him?"
