the art of sustaining shadows and lending existence to nothing
The ebony creature was stagnant at the sound of the grulla girl’s approach. He knew just who invaded his solitude without having to glance up at her, after all he had been expecting both her and her melancholy news. He could feel her pause nearby and it was only then that he turned slightly, his head raising to look rather neutrally at her. Her voice was soft when she spoke, laced with all the sorrows she had suffered in the hours that had passed. A frown flittered across the ebony male’s face, his gaze still intent upon her as he watched her turn from him, her eyes searching for anything but his own face. In that moment her emotions were painfully clear to the steed. Her despondency made him ache in a way that he never had before, leaving him momentarily dazed and confused by this sudden invasion of emotions. His dark eyes dropped, entirely ignorant of the two toned bird that rested above him, watching him with those bright golden eyes.
Like him Fiducia felt the same sense of depression at that painful look upon Vardis’ face. And yet, unlike him, she too felt sorrow for the loss of the child. Fiducia had not been expecting the loss of the child in the same fashion that her dragon had. She still lamented for the unnamed babe and thus wanted nothing more then to be cuddled into Wulfric’s side. The bird girl had hardly paused to do so once the falcon joined her and within a matter of moments she had pressed her monochromatic figure up against him, burring the refined head of hers within him as best as possible. She heard that click of frustration from her lover and felt his pain though was entirely unable to properly express her sympathy. Certainly Wulfric had been forced to experience far worse than the bird girl had and yet…for some unknown reason Fiducia was equally as devastated. A soft sigh left her mouth as she maneuvered just so that she may glance at the still Tenembrage, her silent voice sharp in her head, “Go to her.”
That soprano voice was just enough to jar the beast from his dazed position. His steps were slow and meticulous simply because he wasn’t quite sure what to do now. He certainly wanted to comfort her but was almost uncertain how. Inevitably he eventually stood before her, his cranium reaching out oh so gently to brush against the flesh of her neck. His voice was soft as he spoke what little words of comfort to her. “Shhh, it’s not your fault….” His tone trailed off, simply because he had ran out of things to say. What he had said though was rather paramount for him. He truly believed that she believed that it was her fault and with that realization also came the understanding that no matter what she felt or thought, this child was destined to die. After a moment’s silence the steed spoke again, this time his voice was firm and no longer gentle and alienating, “We’ll try again.” It was but the smallest hint of hope that he could offer her.