he welcomed her with a low chuff, and blinked rainwater from his eyes, curling more tightly against the willow. she was in need of the closeness — he did not see blue willow as a standoffish type when it came to grieving — and as he was a physical creature himself, lasher was quite happy to provide her with such. if his gestures were approved, he would clear her cheeks of the downpour before preening her ruff gently, inviting her to relax and to sleep even on this awful day.
once they had returned to the plateau, she would fare somehow better, he believed. of course her grief would not be struck out; it would remain, but in the shadow of her domain, the closeness of her companions — it was altogether a better place for her than some forgotten, rainkissed beach.
slowly he slid into slumber, though it was light, ever aware of his comrade.