Emberwood prayer of the refugee

Unfortunately for him, he didn't understand her language of hail and thus it scurried right over his head and into the wind. Besides the clear annoyance that he had gauged out of her, Roscoe liked her. She hadn't snapped at him nor charged at him viciously and for that he was thankful. Ohhhh meditation... yeah he had no idea what that was like. Not one bit. He was a meet everything head-on individual and couldn't even begin to think how standing still did anyone any good. With that being said, it was easy to just slip that under the rug as though he knew exactly what it was and even gave a temporary apologetic look that quickly dissolved into something neutral. Best not to display his whole hand, okay?

While he had decided he enjoyed her well enough, he could not resist nor control the disappointed look that etched over his face. A furrow of his brows and a pinch of his cheeks indicated as such. Oh, he murmured under his breath as he looked to the area in between them, you looked so comfortable I had only assumed. Why else would you meditate and close your eyes in a place that you didn't know? It was dangerous to be out here and not be awake and prepared. I'm not from here either. My mum passed so here I am. Roscoe wasn't as broken up about as he had been a few months ago but she had been a great light in his life that had made it all the easier to see her light as it was and continue forward.