Heron Lake Plateau shadow, my sweet shadow

There was no explaining any of that to the guilt he felt.  That nothing he'd done had been enough to prevent it.  He just kept asking why and not receiving an answer that satisfied him, as all of them left him powerless to do anything but worry.  Sure, he tried, but he didn't know what he was doing.

And yet she seemed to forgive his inability to do anything.  At her touch, at her kiss, again he shuddered, though his time his breathing audibly hitched along with it.  Soothing his frustration at himself seemed to just push him towards an emotional edge that his ego didn't want him to go over.  She knew that he tried to put on the facade of an unflappable tough guy, and if he broke down sobbing in whatever bizarre mix of terror, relief, and whatever else this was, it wouldn't exactly how he wanted to be seen.  He tried to keep himself under control, but it had been horrifying.  Quixote was still getting used to truly loving and being loved and he hadn't realized just how much that small bit of time where it seemed like he might lose Raven was going to affect him.  He felt he'd been gutted just from the thought of it.  Quixote didn't necessarily trust himself to speak.  He was still scared for her.

But he could do something!  Please.  Take his mind off this emotional stew he'd made, Yeah, I can-- I can do that.  Do I need to help you stand up?  He got to his feet, one leg foreleg right up against her side in case she just needed something to lean on.  If he needed to help by gently lifting by her scruff, he would.  Hell, he'd do whatever was needed.  Quixote was careful, he'd move as slowly as she needed, take as much weight as she wanted to put on him.  Just point him in the right direction and off they'd go.