Must have been the wind
Farrah
08-24-2020, 08:21 PM
He let his gaze glance toward Farrah as she began to shift away from his side and drift across the open space between him and his mother. She was such an interesting wolf and sometimes he struggled to know how to help her or interact with her in a way that was going to be the best for her, but he was trying and he hoped that was enough. He would tell from how his mother reacted that she felt the same way he did and that was no surprise to him. If she could have had a hundred children she would have and he had no doubt that she would have had enough love to go around for all of them. It was something that he appreciated about her because it made him see the value in compassion and affection, but it also frustrated him at times. It was that unending, undying love that made her still so in love with Ganta despite what he did and so endlessly forgiving with Philomena even though she had put them all through so much. The most shocking thing was when he heard Farrah speak. It made his ears perk to catch her few and broken words, giving her his full attention. The only time she had actually spoken around him was to tell him her name and that had been very close to the end of their interaction the last time they crossed paths. It was a bit disjointed, but when his eyes were directed down tot he rabbit that laid by his feet with her pointing he was able to put it together. She wanted the rabbit to be a gift for his mother. The thought made him smile and his tail have a few slow wags. "Of course! It's your gift to give - it can be for whoever you want." He picked it up again and moved the rabbit closer to Farrah, giving her an encouraging nod. "Do you want to give it to her?" he asked, his voice a little softer to show that he was speaking to just her. "I know she'll love it." It was less about the fact that it was a rabbit, which was valuable prey in its own right, but more about the fact that it was a gift from her. It was just like when he and his sister would bring their mother all kinds of little odds and ends that they caught or found when they were really little - everything from bugs to shiny rocks to the largest clumps of mud they could find. A gift was a gift and it was the thought that counted. |
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