Isuma was a warm and comforting weight across his shoulders. He was cold in a way that wasn't going to pass anytime soon, an ache wrapped around his bones, defying the warmth of both food and fire. His stomach, unused to food, felt tight and uncertain, and he rolled the last of the vegetables around with his spoon. A couple of hours was what he needed to work the heat back up again, and shake the deadness from his wrists.
He reclaimed his fingers from Isuma and cupped the cooling bowl in his hands, rolling Jigano's question over in his mind for a moment before answering. "No," he said, his voice drifting as his thumb stroked the bowl. "I don't, really, I.. still meet a fair few people, for various reasons, but human company isn't exactly something that I need." He swirled the soup with his spoon. "That's not to say I don't appreciate it, or sometimes want it-" And his gaze flicked up from the soup, a flighty thing searching Jigano's face, "-but I don't need it."
Masking a small sigh Rory scooped up the last of the soup in his bowl, finishing it with thoughts left unsaid—about how it had been easier to take care of the farm when Karlia had been staying there too, or at least coming by to help out with odd jobs or cooking, how it was quieter now, and, perhaps, a tiny bit lonely only because he wasn't used to it.
But he wasn't ready to talk about Karlia, so he nudged his bowl to the side and ran his pale, cold hands around each other, absently rubbing the skin to generate warmth.
He reclaimed his fingers from Isuma and cupped the cooling bowl in his hands, rolling Jigano's question over in his mind for a moment before answering. "No," he said, his voice drifting as his thumb stroked the bowl. "I don't, really, I.. still meet a fair few people, for various reasons, but human company isn't exactly something that I need." He swirled the soup with his spoon. "That's not to say I don't appreciate it, or sometimes want it-" And his gaze flicked up from the soup, a flighty thing searching Jigano's face, "-but I don't need it."
Masking a small sigh Rory scooped up the last of the soup in his bowl, finishing it with thoughts left unsaid—about how it had been easier to take care of the farm when Karlia had been staying there too, or at least coming by to help out with odd jobs or cooking, how it was quieter now, and, perhaps, a tiny bit lonely only because he wasn't used to it.
But he wasn't ready to talk about Karlia, so he nudged his bowl to the side and ran his pale, cold hands around each other, absently rubbing the skin to generate warmth.
