Horizon Ridge Chaos

Fade with your post?

He saw the many emotions flit across her face, and was stunned by them. Though he felt them keenly himself, she was emotive; and in this now dead place, Renoir focused upon that to keep himself grounded. Her surprise shifted to sadness, to the beginnings of grief, and with a stunned little voice he heard her heart crack. Though she mirrored his own feelings, he knew he could return to the Donnelaith and be safe among his new kin — but where would she go? To her people with no home? The boy was tempted to offer her respite or something akin to it, something certain, but held his tongue. She was proud of her family (that much had been shown during their brief conversation) and so he would not offend her by asking.

But he did drift closer to her, and carefully, coyly, placed his chin upon her shoulder with the hope it would bring calm. It was brief. He did not wish to bother her to any great capacity with his proximity and had learned that some wolves did not like physical contact; so once he withdrew, he gave her a small bow and mumbled farewell: And to you, much luck.

Renoir would remember the strange storm of locusts for some time, and the cave with the french woman,  and though it was a terrible time in the wilds it would be a beautiful memory to himself. Without another word he departed from her side, and headed towards home.