According to his grandmother, Dusk had been hurt and needed time to heal. Gav had been beside himself while Bellamy kept him away. Even now, knowing she was still recovering, scared him. She was his hero, an unshakeable and strong protector and best friend. He had protested a great deal, but still his grandmother would not let him go back to Dusk's room so that she could heal without a clinging and crying child at her bedside. He spent a lot of time trying to escape, even biting his grandmother as he tried to make a beeline for Dusk’s room and make sure she was okay. But every time the older woman stopped him, scooping the tiny boy up and bringing him back into the room. When she slept she did so with a paw over the winged boy, hoping to prevent him from disrupting her healing by stressing her.
But Gavroche was not one to give up. Considering the lines he came from, Bellamy should have expected him to keep pushing, a reincarnation of her past mate or not. He needed to see Dusk, to make sure she was okay. And whoever hurt her… they would pay. Gavroche had spat at Bellamy about all the things he’d do to whoever hurt her, and the fact that they’d never find them after. Concerning stuff for a kid to be saying, but Gav meant every word. Dusk had saved him, and he hated that he hadn’t been able to do the same for her.
That evening, as Bellamy drifted off into an early slumber, Gavroche set to wiggling himself free. He’d find Dusk, he’d make sure no one hurt her again! Maybe she needed to go to Ethne so the bad things wouldn’t find her again! That was all he could think about as bit by bit, he pulled himself free. The moment he was, Gavroche was off like a shot. He made for the great hall, to make for Dusk’s room, when the sound of music reached his ears… and the scents and voices of a great many strangers. Forgetting his goals temporarily, Gavroche went to investigate.
So many faces, the smell of food, and tons of strangers were around. Gavroche moved forward, his green eyes wide with wonder. What was this? A party? It was more upbeat than the bonfire he’d been to. In his sweep of the room, he spotted the only thing that mattered to him and raced toward her. He didn’t stop, plowing into Dusk’s foreleg before wrapping his own around it and laying down on top of it with a soft whine. “I missed you…” His voice was saddened, ears falling as he looked up at her. Tears had begun pricking his eyes.
“...I don’t want you to hurt…” His voice was quiet, meant for her ears alone. Was she still hurting? How did he take the hurt away? It wasn’t like crying, he couldn’t just do something silly and make her smile or laugh to make it better…
"Speech," 'Thought.'
