"How could it not?" Jigano answered the question of beginnings, however rhetorical. His lips quirked back towards that crooked smile as his eyes found the mountain's gaze again, brow raised. "Kindred souls in curiosity, a hundred thousand questions between us, a love of books, a lust for knowledge. We would have ended up in each other's orbits eventually, it was only a question of when." And he only wished it had happened sooner, now.
But as he offered, so he asked, though this time meant in simple curiosity to keep the conversation going rather than as a clever bit of teasing. He chuckled at hearing that the library had been their first encounter, a little surprised that it had not been the same for him. His grin turned wistful at hearing about the bakery, knowing now how dear it had been to Amalia's grandmother, that formidable soul, and glad that she had such stalwart assistants at her side. So many things had happened before he had arrived, all cautious whiskers and skin-deep smiles, his stopped clockwork heart hidden away and rusted shut in the dusty catacombs he called a soul.
So many new beginnings for more than just him, as armor cracked and the light slipped in, fractured iron and steel revealing the pulse of life to be only dormant, not dead after all, and waking once more to the warmth of friends both found and made.
His grin widened at the mention of Rory and vampire gourds - or perhaps at the scones that were made from the flesh of the carnivorous cucurbits. That, at least, was a time he knew, if not the precise day. Leafchange and its tiny terrors - and not so tiny, considering the great grandmother of all gourds that had attacked Edy and he!
"Yes, the gourds were a rather unpleasant surprise when I first arrived, too," he murmured, lips twitching again towards a smile. "I'd never seen anything quite like them before. Carnivorous plants, sure, but not ones that hopped after you and cackled about it. I wonder if they infest the Greatwood come Leafchange as well?" A rhetorical question and he knew it, unless they could find a Fae whose curiosity was stronger than their fear of their warchief. An unlikely combination.
"Are you friends with Rory, too, then?"
But as he offered, so he asked, though this time meant in simple curiosity to keep the conversation going rather than as a clever bit of teasing. He chuckled at hearing that the library had been their first encounter, a little surprised that it had not been the same for him. His grin turned wistful at hearing about the bakery, knowing now how dear it had been to Amalia's grandmother, that formidable soul, and glad that she had such stalwart assistants at her side. So many things had happened before he had arrived, all cautious whiskers and skin-deep smiles, his stopped clockwork heart hidden away and rusted shut in the dusty catacombs he called a soul.
So many new beginnings for more than just him, as armor cracked and the light slipped in, fractured iron and steel revealing the pulse of life to be only dormant, not dead after all, and waking once more to the warmth of friends both found and made.
His grin widened at the mention of Rory and vampire gourds - or perhaps at the scones that were made from the flesh of the carnivorous cucurbits. That, at least, was a time he knew, if not the precise day. Leafchange and its tiny terrors - and not so tiny, considering the great grandmother of all gourds that had attacked Edy and he!
"Yes, the gourds were a rather unpleasant surprise when I first arrived, too," he murmured, lips twitching again towards a smile. "I'd never seen anything quite like them before. Carnivorous plants, sure, but not ones that hopped after you and cackled about it. I wonder if they infest the Greatwood come Leafchange as well?" A rhetorical question and he knew it, unless they could find a Fae whose curiosity was stronger than their fear of their warchief. An unlikely combination.
"Are you friends with Rory, too, then?"
