Redhawk Caldera You shout it out but I can't hear a word you say.

When he was there, Eljay found himself afraid — afraid of Towhee lashing out in her grief, afraid of the physical and emotional pain that would follow. But instead of any of that, she clung to him for dear life, folding into the hug. Her sobs and cries turned into a howling wail and Eljay just clung to her tightly, still not really sure what he was doing. He just knew that she needed something, someone, right now, and he would be there for her.

Sometimes, it was good to just cry for a bit, and he'd be the friend that let her.

Eljay kept holding her closely until he felt her grip loosen, and only then did he loosen his grip, too. He might not always be the best at social situations, but Eljay was good at sensing emotion, and so his hug faded as Towhee's grip, easing her back into the world on her own.

He lingered for a little while after that, his social insecurities returning because it was hard to read whether Towhee wanted him to stick around or not. He hesitated, but stayed near in the end.

Over the next days, Eljay would bring Towhee food regularly just so he knew that she was taken care of. It was clear from the vacant expression in her eyes that she wasn't all there in those days, and Eljay would not have her fall over from starvation or dehydration; he decided on that day that he would take care of her when she could not do it herself, for however long it was necessary.

such a beautiful thread, thank you <3