Sleeping Dragon friday night lights

The nudge was greeted by a sound he’d never heard before, which was followed by a waving of her arm. She’d managed to hit him on the nose, which had sent him backwards as he attempted to put some distance between their bodies. Hvitserk was unaware of what he had done to be forced onto the receiving end of her outburst, having thought himself to have done something nice. His lack of experience with familial deaths left him without enough of details to fully understand what was happening. He didn’t know that she was grieving, for he hadn’t a clue as to what grief even was, and especially not how it worked; the effects that it had on the mind could possibly be something that he never understood, either.

As she turned back towards her brother, the child watched, feeling both a need to help and uncomfortable at the same time. He’d approached her again after her body had heaved, preparing himself for whatever she might throw at him next. He would take it if he had to, allow for her to work out her frustrations and sorrow in whichever way suited her the best. His nose sought to touch her back as a whimper sounded from his throat. Though he didn’t say anything, he wanted to make it clear that he would help with whatever she needed done. She need only tell him what to do, and he’d do it without question or hesitation. All Hvit wanted was to be able to help his friend and make her happy again.