[/html]Though she wanted the chance to cry, no tears came, only the hacked apart noise that went ignored, much to her enjoyment. Talitha was not emotional, she didn't enjoy being coddled or comforted in times of her sorrow. Being alone was simply easier, and more comfortable, than having to explain. It was with relief that she remembered Cotl's impaired mind. Drugs had saved her an awkward explanation.
Her large, black-tinted ears twitched as he mumbled, not trying to decipher his words for she knew she would be unable to. Instead, she merely nodded as he commented on the softness of her fur; she never paid so much attention to her own, more concerned with the appearances of others. After all, she knew what she was. There was no need to impress herself.
His fingers scratched gently at her neck, but found nothing. Talitha was too far into the pit of her mind to respond to what might have been a friendly gesture, and attempt to make her laugh, a chance to cheer her up. Ezekiel consumed her, until her friend spoke of a different path, and the cogs wheeled around to function in the same place that Cotl did. While she had been gone, she had changed many things. An ornamental scar, a hole in her ear, washed out clothing. They added to her, but made her a different person as well. His curiosity was specifically placed in the vaguely ornate spiral carved from a bleached bone. Who had given it to her?
"I met a coyote in the Wastes. Myron. He did it. I made the ring, though." A small achievement on her part, to make the bone look just so. Many had splintered off before she was successful. Slowly, she raised a hand to it, twisting it in the small hole to remove it and display it closer to the charcoal muzzle of the German. "He taught me some things."
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