I have my freedom but I don't have much time
Glancing down at the bouquet of flowers in one hand, the wrangler chews on the inside of his lip for a moment as his denim gaze seems to see through the flowers he was holding. "Fer my ma'." He answers on the heels of a sigh, before tugging his gaze up from the flowers and toward Alys. "Well, her grave anyway. I ain't so sentimental to think that her body is still anything more than dirt by now, but.." He shrugs, and it's the shrug of a man who had loved his mother so dearly, that he'd set aside his rather linear and straightforward dealings with the world, that he might remember his mother in this one boyishly naive way.
"Didn't mean t'bother you. I just didn't want you to think I was one of them spooks. They don't tend to talk or say hello, so.." Again that shrug. Morgen seemed to be the sort of man who relied more on body language than his words for communicating his meanings. But then, he did spend a good deal of time around animals who couldn't talk, so perhaps we might forgive him that.
"Didn't mean t'bother you. I just didn't want you to think I was one of them spooks. They don't tend to talk or say hello, so.." Again that shrug. Morgen seemed to be the sort of man who relied more on body language than his words for communicating his meanings. But then, he did spend a good deal of time around animals who couldn't talk, so perhaps we might forgive him that.
