Easier said than done, indeed. The meeting with Claudius had started off with some difficulties on both the boys’ parts. Now when Conor had found his voice again he felt secure and his voice sang out strongly as he spoke. The paler boy still seemed to be a bit nervous, but Conor was determined not to judge the boy by this. They were all different and he firmly believed that every person had his or hers own set of strengths and weaknesses. If dying was one of Claudius’ strengths then it was only right to try to support him. A smile danced across the Dahlian’s slim maw at the Aniwayan’s uncertain, unintelligible reply as he clearly was buying time to find a better answer.
Forehead wrinkled slightly as the question came. He wished to serve the boy a meaningful and strong reasoning without taking it all out and explain about his cruel father that always made him feel like a purebred loser. "Because no-one should have the right to judge me because what I look like, and because it’s not their business,” the young Soul boy started slowly, wishing he could express this better. ”Why let other people let you feel bad for who you are? We are all different. If I said I hated dying, then that doesn’t mean that dying is stupid. If you like it then you have the right to like it, and you have to practise to get better. Perhaps some would think I would look silly if it got spilled all over me, but it’s just painting that would go off. It’s no big deal at all. If mocked me just for that, then they would be the silly ones, not me.” Conor felt fail, but he hoped the essence of his words would reach the light hued boy.
Ears twitched sideways as the boy wondered if he should push on trying to get Claudius to dye his fur or not. If the older boy did not want to then he wouldn’t want to force him.
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