Ankyra Sound Sorry to get sentimental tonight

She reminded him of the tide pools along the shore. They could take a beating from the swarming tide, erode slowly with its persistence, and often held on to things too long. Firefly wondered how long she'd hurt, how long they all would nurse these wounds - but most of all, he wondered how he could help. Her sadness caught between them; he wasn't sure if he could do anything at all to help her, but he would try. She did not deserve this hurt.

But he didn't know what to say, either. The relationship between the women was not something he thought much about. If he'd ever lost anyone like that — well, he couldn't remember. Maybe he had. Maybe he saw her aching and her crying and thought, 'I wish I could feel that way,' but he was just a piece of debris caught upon a beach, himself.

Firefly approached and as he drew up beside her, he slowly moved to press his nose against her cheek, but would not do much else in case she did not want him close. He was there, though. Scarred and bloodied from the battle, but present as a shoulder to - literally and figuratively - cry upon.