He listened to Kiada solemnly as the kettle began to heat, his usual bright enthusiasm dampened and subdued as the uncharacteristically quiet gryphlet in his lap. Isuma peeped softly at Auni, but for once she didn't bound to dance and play with her friend, too weighed down with her companion's heavy heart to frolic in her usual way.
"I am sorry that I led you into that ambush," Jigano said softly when she had finished, his blue eyes dark with regret. "If I had any inkling of what would happen..." he hesitated and then sighed, looking older and wearier than ever. "Well. I would not have put you or the others at risk, had we suspected how territorial the Fae would be." Long fingers moved to stroke Isuma on reflex, an ingrained habit now as he met Kiada's eyes solemnly. "But it is no easy thing, preparing oneself to die. To say your goodbyes within your heart and then to gather the courage to face that fate head-on... finding yourself surviving after all can be almost anti-climactic, yes?" He managed a ghost of a smile, wry and understanding as the kettle began to bubble quietly on the hearth.
"And then to relive all those memories of pain and sadness..." He drew in a slow sigh, understanding far too well and far too recently how much that could hurt. He shifted Isuma as he thought so he could reach the kettle and pour the hot water over the teapot so the leaves could steep. When he returned to his seat he offered his hand to Auni, if the little luxere would accept more scratches.
"It is no wonder you have found yourself struggling," he said gently. "Thinking you had lost your future, and then being flung back into your past."
"I am sorry that I led you into that ambush," Jigano said softly when she had finished, his blue eyes dark with regret. "If I had any inkling of what would happen..." he hesitated and then sighed, looking older and wearier than ever. "Well. I would not have put you or the others at risk, had we suspected how territorial the Fae would be." Long fingers moved to stroke Isuma on reflex, an ingrained habit now as he met Kiada's eyes solemnly. "But it is no easy thing, preparing oneself to die. To say your goodbyes within your heart and then to gather the courage to face that fate head-on... finding yourself surviving after all can be almost anti-climactic, yes?" He managed a ghost of a smile, wry and understanding as the kettle began to bubble quietly on the hearth.
"And then to relive all those memories of pain and sadness..." He drew in a slow sigh, understanding far too well and far too recently how much that could hurt. He shifted Isuma as he thought so he could reach the kettle and pour the hot water over the teapot so the leaves could steep. When he returned to his seat he offered his hand to Auni, if the little luxere would accept more scratches.
"It is no wonder you have found yourself struggling," he said gently. "Thinking you had lost your future, and then being flung back into your past."
