October
when the night has been too lonely
and the road has been too long
and the road has been too long
The wound isn't fatal and it's a long way from his heart, as your mother used to say. Nothing a bit of your ability can't fix, though you wouldn't be able to now, while he's awake. In the clinic though, where you've got a vial of your shavings? Maybe...
Placing your palm against his cheek to steady both his trembles and his gaze, you try to find his eyes. "Finn, you're going to be alright." You say in a gentle, but firm voice. You can smell the sickness on him, the fear and anxiety. The half-shift takes part at the back of your nose where it can't really be seen, but your nostrils flare just the same. You think you can smell something like hurt and sadness as well, though it's harder to define. While animals can absolutely sense emotions, it...isn't always so straight forward. And right now your own mind doesn't know what to think.
Using your hip to balance him, your hand lowers to his shoulder, pressing slightly so that he might slump all the way down to the floor. No use in him trying to remain standing, or worse, falling over while you get the things you need. "You're okay Finn." You whisper again, long fingers squeezing his shoulder. "I'm just going to get my bad from beside your bed. I can't fix your fingers here, but I can wrap them."
Placing your palm against his cheek to steady both his trembles and his gaze, you try to find his eyes. "Finn, you're going to be alright." You say in a gentle, but firm voice. You can smell the sickness on him, the fear and anxiety. The half-shift takes part at the back of your nose where it can't really be seen, but your nostrils flare just the same. You think you can smell something like hurt and sadness as well, though it's harder to define. While animals can absolutely sense emotions, it...isn't always so straight forward. And right now your own mind doesn't know what to think.
Using your hip to balance him, your hand lowers to his shoulder, pressing slightly so that he might slump all the way down to the floor. No use in him trying to remain standing, or worse, falling over while you get the things you need. "You're okay Finn." You whisper again, long fingers squeezing his shoulder. "I'm just going to get my bad from beside your bed. I can't fix your fingers here, but I can wrap them."
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong
for the lucky and the strong
