Hugs were still a little awkward, but since his brush with blight-borne death, Jigano had found much of his reticence for them had faded. He might never be as unabashedly tactile as Amalia and Sam could be, but he had come too close to never being able to hug anyone ever again, and it had shifted his priorities more than a little. He tilted his head at his friend, giving him a weary smile as he stepped forward and offered the bookkeeper a careful pat on the back - careful both for his unfamiliarity with such gestures still, and because he still could not trust himself completely, never knowing when the darkness coiling within his belly would try and strike.
"I thought I had died, too," he admitted soberly, stepping back to look his friend over again, reassuring himself that Sam was at least outwardly unharmed. "I don't remember most of that time. It's just... darkness. I know I attacked some people though. Hurt them. I... didn't know if you were one of them," he admitted in a low voice, looking away guiltily. He rested a shaking hand on the back of one of the chairs around the big table, subtly leaning against it as a wave of weakness threatened. Hearing that Sam had been trying to take on the position of Provost sent twin flares of pride and bitter jealousy through him, and it wasn't hard to know which was the nightmare still pulsing in his veins. He swallowed hard against the tarry lump in his throat, biting back the first snappish words that tried to escape.
Isuma took that moment to bound back to his shoulder, mantling a protective wing over his head as she pressed hard against the side of his neck, offering her support. He exhaled shakily, and nodded to Sam as he pulled the chair out and half-collapsed into it. "Thank you, Sam. I appreciate that. I hope that I'll be here for many seasons yet to come, though." He couldn't quite manage a smile in the face of the blight's grudging retreat, but he patted the chair beside his invitingly. "Tell me, old friend, what has been happening around the Settlement since the weather changed?" From Leafchange into Deepfrost, from spiralling down into madness and now the slow climb back out of that black pit. While he had been a rabid beast driving himself to destruction amid the snow, what had the rest of the world been doing?
"I thought I had died, too," he admitted soberly, stepping back to look his friend over again, reassuring himself that Sam was at least outwardly unharmed. "I don't remember most of that time. It's just... darkness. I know I attacked some people though. Hurt them. I... didn't know if you were one of them," he admitted in a low voice, looking away guiltily. He rested a shaking hand on the back of one of the chairs around the big table, subtly leaning against it as a wave of weakness threatened. Hearing that Sam had been trying to take on the position of Provost sent twin flares of pride and bitter jealousy through him, and it wasn't hard to know which was the nightmare still pulsing in his veins. He swallowed hard against the tarry lump in his throat, biting back the first snappish words that tried to escape.
Isuma took that moment to bound back to his shoulder, mantling a protective wing over his head as she pressed hard against the side of his neck, offering her support. He exhaled shakily, and nodded to Sam as he pulled the chair out and half-collapsed into it. "Thank you, Sam. I appreciate that. I hope that I'll be here for many seasons yet to come, though." He couldn't quite manage a smile in the face of the blight's grudging retreat, but he patted the chair beside his invitingly. "Tell me, old friend, what has been happening around the Settlement since the weather changed?" From Leafchange into Deepfrost, from spiralling down into madness and now the slow climb back out of that black pit. While he had been a rabid beast driving himself to destruction amid the snow, what had the rest of the world been doing?
