07-07-2009, 02:26 PM
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Hemming laughed a little, casting a glance (very nervously) to where Saw may have slithered off to. He wrung his hands in his lap, vestiges of fear being exiled to his extremities. Dagrun, though her feathers were now settled down, was keeping careful watch from her perch on the wolf's head, little black eyes moving to and fro with impeccable speed. If the snake was capable of leaping the few feet to the top of Hemming's head, she might end up as lunch. Not a pleasant experience, whether one is just a spirit or not. Despite the possibilities, the little Willow Flycatcher seemed rather content on the top of his head, and apparently the stronghold was not inferior to anywhere else she might light her small body. "I suppose you could say that," he replied, a small grin etched into his face, though more tightly than usual. And then, with a little twinkle in his eye, he joked, "I'm certainly more familiar with yours." As his own (still rather nervous) laughter faded, he continued on a more serious note, "I still don't really understand. But, I'll learn." Hemming did seem to understand the concept a bit better, and having one of his own did enlighten him. He hadn't really thought about it much, though, in an intellectual sense. It seemed to be more of an emotional, spiritual attachment than anything that could be truly analyzed. Having Dagrun around constantly seemed almost... natural. |