Ankyra Sound On the highway, heavy hearted, humming just to hear a sound

Fine wasn’t as good as great but also better than terrible, so he took it as positive news. “That’s good,” he said then, relief evident in his tone. There were few he knew personally and even fewer he felt that he knew especially well but, as far as he was concerned, knowing or not knowing someone did not change what was acceptable for him to think about them; if someone was hurt, was it not common decency to show sympathy?

Aningan had little more time to think on the matter before a comment followed the woman’s previous words, a jab aimed right at him. At first, his ears fell back and his expression mimicked that of a child being scolded for the first time, unable to comprehend from where she was coming—not to say that she was wrong, however. He knew already that he still had a long way to go if he ever hoped to make a name for himself, and that he still had much to learn and many to prove himself to (although, he wasn’t entirely sure if doing so was something that he could accomplish). “I wouldn’t say useless…” he responded, brow furrowing. “Well, yeah, with that… I don’t know anything about healing.” No one had ever taught him and, truthfully, he wasn’t so sure that he wanted to know; simple things would be beneficial to know but everything else? It wasn’t for him. But he was trying to gather what information he could and make himself better, either way. So, gradually, his ears rose back up atop his head.

“I don’t know a lot but I’m trying to learn,” he explained. “I don’t want to be useless or, uh, come off that way.” But it was difficult to learn at times, especially since he’d not gotten off to the same start like most others his age. Aningan had spent a good bit of his life alone, and then travelling—Rusalka was the first place he’d been able to settle down and feel at home at, as well as begin to learn how to actually live his life.