02-01-2009, 04:19 AM
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Geneva listened thoughtfully, and caught the wistful tone in his voice. How sad and hard it must have been to see his home burn. She felt sympathy for him, along with a secret surge of pride. Although she did not know her pack mate at all, it seemed that he wasn't a quitter. He had adjusted, had risen above his tragedies to carve out a new home for himself and the ones he loved. And in the process, he had played a role in creating the home she loved so dearly. She was so grateful to him, and was sure he had played a role in the whole process, but didn't know how to thank him. It was be so strange to. Instead, she schooled her features to be neutral. Best not to smile when someone described the desecration of their homeland. "I'm so sorry about your home," she said. And she was. But he had survived, and that was the important part. She thought back to her childhood home. "I grew up in a city," she began. "So unlike anything here. Even the city in the neutral territories. My city was a mass of huge human buildings that touched the sky, taller than trees. And they were all made of glass, silvered like the face of water." He had shared part of his life with her. It only seemed right that she do the same. |