AESIOR OPHELES
✯ — got spirits in my head and they won't go
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The sight of child caught his eyes, gray orbs shining with his own unshed tears, dark from his exhausting race. Laughter shook his shoulders, a silent mind that they couldn't hear expect for the wheezes of air leaving him, a happy expression on his face. He hadn't been ignored. That was more than he could have asked for. It was more than he deserved for responding in the way he had to his heart. He gratefully accepted the embrace of the younger male, peacefully breathing in his scent. Yes, he was truly home. Lifting his free paw, he would attempt to pet Fraggle's back and hug him in return, smiling warmly down at the child.
He was learning sign language for him? He couldn't help but smile even wider. He felt warm because of that, it made him feel better somehow. He was grateful that he was taking the step to communicating with those like himself. It was well appreciated by the mute. When asked if he figured out what to do about his bad news, he would nod softly. In his travels he'd picked up on scents he hadn't wished to ever smell in his life again. He could smell the other grims and it had put him on edge. He didn't fully know what to do about his feelings for Arlo, but he wasn't going to run from them, not anymore. He had duties here to more than just himself, and he had to protect everyone.
His gaze lifted as he caught Vincent's scent on the breeze, only able to see the white Tom's back turned to him. A soft smile grew upon his face. He'd learned one thing over the duration that he knew the other, and it was that he either couldn't or wouldn't show his emotions and inner feelings to those around him. He knew that he was probably upset in some fashion about what happened. He didn't know if the other considered him a friend or anywhere close to it, but he felt that way to the other. He couldn't speak, and he didn't know if his voice would reach the other, "Vincent", he would attempt. The voice was soft, careful but warm. It could be taken as recognition or for calling out to him. He didn't want to push the white tom with his back to him.
His gaze took in Cleopatra. He didn't remember seeing her when he'd left. That was fine. Nodding his head in neutral greeting, awkward at best. He returned his gaze to Fraggle before he turned to the Satchel he always wore. A smile was on his features as he pulled out a notebook. Within were pressed flowers and herbs with their names and uses beside them. He'd remembered the interest he'd seen in the other when it came to matters of healing. Pushing it to the child, he would sit up and look away, hoping he'd enjoy the knowledge. It seemed as good a time as any.
He was learning sign language for him? He couldn't help but smile even wider. He felt warm because of that, it made him feel better somehow. He was grateful that he was taking the step to communicating with those like himself. It was well appreciated by the mute. When asked if he figured out what to do about his bad news, he would nod softly. In his travels he'd picked up on scents he hadn't wished to ever smell in his life again. He could smell the other grims and it had put him on edge. He didn't fully know what to do about his feelings for Arlo, but he wasn't going to run from them, not anymore. He had duties here to more than just himself, and he had to protect everyone.
His gaze lifted as he caught Vincent's scent on the breeze, only able to see the white Tom's back turned to him. A soft smile grew upon his face. He'd learned one thing over the duration that he knew the other, and it was that he either couldn't or wouldn't show his emotions and inner feelings to those around him. He knew that he was probably upset in some fashion about what happened. He didn't know if the other considered him a friend or anywhere close to it, but he felt that way to the other. He couldn't speak, and he didn't know if his voice would reach the other, "Vincent", he would attempt. The voice was soft, careful but warm. It could be taken as recognition or for calling out to him. He didn't want to push the white tom with his back to him.
His gaze took in Cleopatra. He didn't remember seeing her when he'd left. That was fine. Nodding his head in neutral greeting, awkward at best. He returned his gaze to Fraggle before he turned to the Satchel he always wore. A smile was on his features as he pulled out a notebook. Within were pressed flowers and herbs with their names and uses beside them. He'd remembered the interest he'd seen in the other when it came to matters of healing. Pushing it to the child, he would sit up and look away, hoping he'd enjoy the knowledge. It seemed as good a time as any.
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THE FLOWER BURNS