Cerulean Cape where the moon is made of gold

It took some time for him to calm down, but with her cooing and fussing, he eventually did. The boy sniffled in to her fur and his breathing was ragged, but the spell did not last long. He felt weak and pathetic and yet he did not resist when Coelacanth held him. He knew to feel a bit embarrassed and even a little guilty for having put her in this awkward position, but she only showed him kindness.

Her crooning voice and hushed, whisper-thin attempts to sooth him did just that. Soon enough Screech was drifting in that space between sleep and wakefulness, feeling utterly exhausted by his sorrow. Emptied out by it. 

More noise from the party — laughter, it sounded like — but he wasn't moved by it. Screech knew he couldn't party the night away with these people, even if they were so welcoming of him. This was not his family. He could not substitute one for the other and expect to feel any better in the long run.

For now, this was enough. Just this.