Even if there was only silence between them, Heath could have sat and enjoyed it. There was too much anger in his heart, too much yelling in his memories. Though he spent so much time alone, he still had the images that played in his mind. They replayed the events that were too important to purge. He could not place any that just held silence, held calm. The serenity was an odd feeling, one that he wasn’t sure would ever return to him after he left her hidden cabin. He would have to go, eventually wearing out his welcome.
Though the silence would have been welcome, he enjoyed their conversation more. His listened intently, but let his eyes break away from her. He closed them, feeling such freedom only because he was hidden from her gaze, and leaned his head against the wall the propped him. He though of her humid homeland, pictured swamps and a beach that harbored their ship. In his mind it was large, like the ones that were pictured in storybooks. Her friends name stuck in his head, something for him to remember. As she described him, Heath wanted her to find him all the more. He wanted her to be with him again, so that the pain that was written on her every inch would disappear.
She shook the unhappiness from her body, and apologized for being so seemingly abrupt. He looked to her again, unable to stop the soft smile that came to his maw. Her long fur dangled from all parts of her head and face. Trying to keep the amusement from his voice he spoke, Its alright. He did truly understand, he had many ways to keep away from the building depression. Though his were far more violent. Maybe next time he would just shake him brain loose from the unhappiness that tried to entrap it.
No. He spoke softly, though he answered her question quickly. Knowing that he should elaborate as she had, Heath explained. I was raised in a pack away from here. My mother was killed when I was young, but the rest took care of us. Pausing Heath brought his brief history to light. A few months ago we decided to find our father, all of that led me here. His story was too gruesome, at least for the type of lady he believed she was. Gold eyes looked to her face, waiting for her reaction. But a few strands of her fur covered her face and it broke his view of her into pieces. He waited, the silence once again taking over. Reaching slowly he let a dark hued finger gently move it from her face, linger along the strands for just a moment. He swallowed the thought; she was too beautiful to hide.
table by erin
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