Time for a New Day

He didn't realize how tense he was when he first wrapped himself around her in that comforting gesture, but when he noticed she was staying, and not moving, he relaxed immensely, the tension leaving his body. Phew. Good. It was something that he would have wanted, for sure, but it was an absolute guess if she had wanted it, and thank goodness he had guessed right. He wasn't sure what everything going through her mind was, but the important part was not that - it was that she stayed, and that he could continue to offer comfort in the way he knew best: kindness and physical affection. HE wasn't sure if she was listening, but he hoped. He hoped beyond belief that his words were getting through to her, because this was absolutely tearing him up on the inside.

... because it wasn't the first time he had to comfort someone like this. All different reasons, of course, and from both males and females, but he felt the same as he did then: the emotions of the one he was comforting bit into him deeply, and an overwhelming sorrow pressed into him. But this time - he might be able to do something. There, he could offer comfort. Sometimes, herbs to ease the pain. But not much else. Here... maybe more. After all, healing went beyond the physical body. It was mental, too, and maybe he could help her heal that way, too.

Once again, he tensed up and his eyes grew wide when Novel moved, and buried her head in his chest. He looked down at the black-and-white wolf with surprise, before a soft smile grew on his face, and his chest warmed - and not just from the warmth of Novel, either, but from a genuine happiness and relief at, well, helping. With a quiet sigh, he lowered his head, and laid it across her neck and shoulder. This time, he didn't say anything, but acted as that rock, that comfort, that person who was just there, and he did so happily, with a quiet contentment. Because that trust that she was putting in him made him feel treasured and valued as well, and that reciprocating comfort of a freely given embrace wasn't one that he had felt in a long time. Not one where he felt hope.

When she started speaking, he shifted slightly, his muzzle turning towards the back of her head. It was only a slight movement, and very not necessary, but it did communicate the fact he was listening. The pain - not going away. The memories not going away. He knew those feelings all too well, and they were invasive, painful, and heart-breaking. "You live with yourself by saving more lives than you take," he told her quietly. "You live with yourself by trying as hard as you can, every day, to save a life. To help someone. That someone can be you, too, but the important thing is helping someone. That little boy, wherever he is, isn't blaming you. Next time you see him... picture him playing. Picture him playing with all the stillborn puppies that have been born. With all the puppies that have succumbed to illness. Picture him in a field, surrounded by other puppies to play with. And while he doesn't have his mother there yet, he's surrounded by many wolves who died during whelp and could never see their puppies. But instead, they have him, and those like him. Picture that instead. Every time." He wasn't sure where the image came from, but it was one that he imagined whenever a puppy died. From a stillborn puppies to an older puppy, he always pictured them as playing, happy, surrounded by other puppies and male and female wolves who died before they could raise their own children. Happy, cheerful, pain-free. Missing mom or dad, but understanding as well. It was a pleasant image, and one he had used numerous times himself. Perhaps it could help her as well.

"Speech" "You"