Heron Lake Plateau your shadow weighs a ton

Whether the stranger could feel hatred or not was yet to be seen. If he felt anything for the golden caretaker, it remained as lost within him as everything else. Niamh melted before him — she spoke, and the white noise held sadness now rather than tension and aggression. He watched her without any indication of care upon Screech's face.

Through the white nose, he heard her murmuring, — so sorry — and even, —must hate me, but this too warranted little response.

Except when Screech's legs seemed to lose their ability to keep the body standing, and he melted beside her. He did not move to comfort her, but he was present, for just a moment — chuffing softly, and reaching — but then he seemed to forget what he was doing mid-action, and his attention drifted back to the tree's many layers.