08-31-2010, 11:02 PM
It seemed like every step forward the wolfdog took required a battle of some sort. Her senses were obviously muddled, her thought patterns a mess. Geneva did not know how to get through to her, but she knew that she would not rest until she did. She was heartened by the hybrid girl's favorable responses within the last few minutes, and that gave her a little bit of confidence. Perhaps they were proceeding on the right track after all. There had to be a way to reach her and to help her regain her own sense of control and perception, but Geneva did not know how. For now, she would have to settle for helping her with her physical troubles.
"It will help," Geneva said, standing a safe distance away. She wanted terribly to reach out and help her into the water, but she knew better. If she touched the wolfdog, she feared that they would lose all of their progress. She obviously did not trust her, and so for now, Geneva would have to play it safe and be careful in the way she approached the girl. She wanted to know more about her and about what had happened to her, but the girl clearly wasn't in a place to hold that kind of conversation.
"I'm Geneva. What is your name?" the Whilom asked gently, wondering if she could penetrate the fog that covered the teen's thoughts. "I want to help you. Let me help you," she said plaintively, her voice pitched low. How could she get through to this girl? There had to be a more direct way. Geneva had all the patience in the world, but she did not know how long this uneasy truce could last between them.
"It will help," Geneva said, standing a safe distance away. She wanted terribly to reach out and help her into the water, but she knew better. If she touched the wolfdog, she feared that they would lose all of their progress. She obviously did not trust her, and so for now, Geneva would have to play it safe and be careful in the way she approached the girl. She wanted to know more about her and about what had happened to her, but the girl clearly wasn't in a place to hold that kind of conversation.
"I'm Geneva. What is your name?" the Whilom asked gently, wondering if she could penetrate the fog that covered the teen's thoughts. "I want to help you. Let me help you," she said plaintively, her voice pitched low. How could she get through to this girl? There had to be a more direct way. Geneva had all the patience in the world, but she did not know how long this uneasy truce could last between them.