Blacktail Deer Plateau the swelling of broken violins

Olive winced as the boy spat acrid words back to her, deigning to stand up and place additional space between them - the space she had closed moments prior, as she sun her heartfelt words to him. Her ears swept backwards and pressed tightly against her skull, lips tightening and constricting her ivories. He was young, and it was common knowledge that young were subject to an adolescent sense of angst and constant vitriol - but his sentiments stung her nonetheless. Rather than indignation, dispiritedness crept up and expressed itself strongly through her emerald eyes. If he could only halt his chaotic spiral for a moment's clemency, the anguished boy would learn that she spoke the truth; ancient wisdom passed down to her by forces much greater than he or she, and corroborated through her own testing. The harlequin did not speak emptily, nor did she consider her beliefs simple platitude. It was sad to her, that he couldn't open himself to ideas that challenged his own torment. 

And as quickly as it came, it was gone and the boy was speaking of her loveliness. Olive canted her head at him, doubtful of the sincerity of his vivid articulations. Really, the sylph did not appreciate her intelligence being insulted [while her beauty was exalted]. Loveliness was but a shell, for true beauty exuded from the mind and the soul.

As a generally even-keeled wolf, Olive was hard pressed to ever experience such dizzying oscillations. Should she leave? Should she force her company upon him?  A small part of her wanted to pick up shop - but her thin haunches sat firmly upon the earth, unable to be moved. 

“I cannot ignore your suffering.” the woman spoke matter of factly, ignoring his diversion in topic.

 Olive then spoke softly, but confidently.“If words and ideas cannot soothe, then tell me how I can help you. Speak naught of your story, if that is what you wish - but I will not leave you.” Olive curtailed the brashness of her stance, drawing her petite form in and assuming the look of an obliging compatriot.