He'd probably read this story here to her. I read it in high school! XD
Harlowe had certainly been slow to pick up on speech, but that had not meant his mind was not functioning anyway; even if he did not know how to verbalize his thoughts, they had been there, lurking beneath the surface. Learning to read had certainly helped, Harlowe thought—it was seeing the characters in his stories interacting so easily that had maybe first helped him to grow a little more confident, confident enough to speak to Cerridwyn on his own, without anyone there to help him. The tawny-shaded youth had grown exponentially in his social skills the last few months, but he was nowhere near perfect, and maybe he never would be. Howver, all of his discomfort primarily extended to non-family; he was comfortable enough around his siblings and his mother and father.
Rio spoke, and the jade-eyes of the youth focused on her face as she spoke, comfortable with making eye contact with her. This was a marked difference from most of his other interactions; where adults were concerned, Harlowe generally refused to even look in their general direction. It made talking too hard; he much preferred to keep his muzzle to the ground. “That would be nice, Rio,” Harlowe said, a rare smile crossing his chocolate-furred muzzle. “Do you want me to read you a story?” the tawny-furred youth said, thinking this would pass the time between now and whenever the storm ended.
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