Tug? Isuma liked playing tug-of-war, which made the bland-tasting piece of wood far more interesting. She stretched out across Rory's lap and set her beak into the toy happily, making the tiny, fierce squeaks of a mighty huntress - but she didn't pull too hard, as if sensing the human's weary apathy. She put just enough strength into her pulls to keep Rory from losing interest, and every once in a while she paused to blink a golden eye up at him, to see if he was having fun, too.
Jigano waited patiently, recognizing the weariness in Rory's eyes and in no hurry. He wanted his friend out in the sunlight, mostly, and the fresh air, among the animals who loved him. A gentle reminder of those who cared for him, and the healing that light could bring after the dark hours of Long Night. Hurrying the man would earn him no favor, however, and might make the quiet hunter dig his heels in and refuse. He could be a stubborn man, the fox had learned on the hunt where the white-haired man had received the silvery tracing of scars on his left shoulder.
But the fox could be stubborn, too. And the gryphlet had magic of her own that she could work on the Abandoned.
He flinched when the hunter moved suddenly, caught by surprise and more wary than the enthusiastic gryphon who reep!ed her joy and leapt from Rory's lap with wings flapping. The wings didn't do much, but she hit the floor at a bound, chasing the skittering toy and startling a laugh from the bard. He stood belatedly, caught off-guard by his friend's sudden rise, and started to back away with an unconscious grace. He was confident in every step he took, even without being able to see where he was going, and he kept blue eyes on Rory'shandsome face, bringing the bouquet a little helplessly in front of him to hold with both hands so he didn't try to reach for something neither of them knew how to ask for.
It was almost like a dance, except one of them wasn't dancing. Rory was just... moving, in a mechanical, slogging way that broke Jigano's heart. And then he wasn't moving and his face was pale and the bouquet had fallen from the bard's hands forgotten as he closed the distance between them, catching at Rory's shoulders and trying to steady him, if the hunter would allow it. "It's alright," he said automatically, soothing away whatever guilt had prompted the needless apology. "You can lean on me, if you need to. Do you want to sit down again... or should we head to the house?" To someplace he could lie down, where Jigano could stoke up a fire and get him water or food or medicine or... or whatever the hunter needed, and never mind the way his own heart was racing, thundering in a rush of worry he couldn't fight back, not this time. Isuma scampered over, peeping her concern as well as she caught her Bonded's intense wash of emotion, and the gryphlet turned golden eyes to Rory in confusion.
Jigano waited patiently, recognizing the weariness in Rory's eyes and in no hurry. He wanted his friend out in the sunlight, mostly, and the fresh air, among the animals who loved him. A gentle reminder of those who cared for him, and the healing that light could bring after the dark hours of Long Night. Hurrying the man would earn him no favor, however, and might make the quiet hunter dig his heels in and refuse. He could be a stubborn man, the fox had learned on the hunt where the white-haired man had received the silvery tracing of scars on his left shoulder.
But the fox could be stubborn, too. And the gryphlet had magic of her own that she could work on the Abandoned.
He flinched when the hunter moved suddenly, caught by surprise and more wary than the enthusiastic gryphon who reep!ed her joy and leapt from Rory's lap with wings flapping. The wings didn't do much, but she hit the floor at a bound, chasing the skittering toy and startling a laugh from the bard. He stood belatedly, caught off-guard by his friend's sudden rise, and started to back away with an unconscious grace. He was confident in every step he took, even without being able to see where he was going, and he kept blue eyes on Rory's
It was almost like a dance, except one of them wasn't dancing. Rory was just... moving, in a mechanical, slogging way that broke Jigano's heart. And then he wasn't moving and his face was pale and the bouquet had fallen from the bard's hands forgotten as he closed the distance between them, catching at Rory's shoulders and trying to steady him, if the hunter would allow it. "It's alright," he said automatically, soothing away whatever guilt had prompted the needless apology. "You can lean on me, if you need to. Do you want to sit down again... or should we head to the house?" To someplace he could lie down, where Jigano could stoke up a fire and get him water or food or medicine or... or whatever the hunter needed, and never mind the way his own heart was racing, thundering in a rush of worry he couldn't fight back, not this time. Isuma scampered over, peeping her concern as well as she caught her Bonded's intense wash of emotion, and the gryphlet turned golden eyes to Rory in confusion.
