It was obvious to anyone that the naive girl had not seen the boy's symptoms of illness - to her it was just a boy who mumbled, babbled, and stuttered through every spoken word. And now, as she backed away from the salt and peppered male, Giselle wondered if she should have turned and left. She could not hide the fact that tears were slowly watering up the pale blues on her face, and the dark haired girl was too stunned with emotion to react fast enough.
The stoat draped across her shoulders looked in between the two, and had interpreted that the stranger before them had upset his pale caretaker. His paws slightly dug into the shoulders of the girl in the sundress, about to leap into action and take matters into his own paws, until 'Elle stiffened at the boy's next reaction. It appeared as if he had seen a ghost, and for a moment the young woman wanted to look over her shoulder to assure herself nothing was there. Then he began to hit himself, to which Giselle gasped sharply and moved backwards and sideways, a hand to her lips. Oh! She exclaimed, the tears that were welling up diminishing, replaced with wide-eyed surprise.
She knew there were different wolves in the lands, but no one quite like the male with the red-bridged nose. He stood there and seemed to regret the words he stuttered earlier, but was making an extreme effort to punish himself. Oh no, please.. She began, before Micah sputtered out his reasoning. Giselle's sadness was now long gone, allowing Tux to relax, and the surprise on her pure colored features melted into content, flowing into the emotion like a gentle wave upon white sands. The naivety of the innocent girl made her look past the boy's real confession, and Giselle saw it as a forgiveness between new-found friends.
It's alright, Micah, she said with a voice as sweet and soothing as milk. Her eyes roamed over his shoulder, and to the scattered buildings behind him, where he had come from before their encounter. I'd be delighted to see you work, though, she said as she clasped her hands together and let them hang down, resting just below her belly. I.. I can make you some new clothes, in exchange for the trouble. The girl's tone was bubbly, an offer to see the young man's work despite his harsh self criticism, knowing the boy had earlier made a point about his shaggy clothes. Giselle didn't stand there long awaiting an answer, however, for she nearly expected him to take the offer.
Swiftly, a gust of wind blew towards the pair, pushing her mahogany hair forward and around her shoulders. With a smile and light, careful movements, the Dreamer gently girl grabbed for the male's free hand in a friendly gesture. And, moving along with the wind, she began to move forward with the current, pulling him along. A hum began to bubble up in her throat again, her fingers lightly grasping his wrist, searching for any sign of a painting. You can paint with all the colors of the winnnnnd~ o/` She sang out, letting go of the boy and letting her arm trail back down to her side. Her eyes rested on the wall with a strange star upon it and the start of a phrase, left unfinished. Is this one yours? Her inquiry came with a hint of wonder at the image, wondering what it all meant upon the old wall.
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