Help I'm alive
11-05-2014, 05:43 PM
Putting his nose back to the ground, he shuffled through what else was in the Herb pile. He was glad there was someone there that cared about him, he knew Othello did. "I want to help others." Though it wasn't direct, it was pretty clear he wanted to be a healer as he spoke. No one had really cared for him properly, Othello being the best but the fact that they were separated without having such a strong bond had drowned that feeling out. Felling? There was no way he felt betrayed by her. His nose would stop twitching to the herbs, though his eyes were empty, his tension in the den had shifted. He wondered if Othello thought of him as he thought of her. If she was looking for him, if she cared. "Speech" |
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