Story concluded, Pavak stared up at the stars for a few moments more, the scraps of his chuckle drifting away in the cooling night air. When there seemed to be no response from Seda as to whether she had enjoyed the story, he thought perhaps she had finally drifted off to sleep, so silent and still was she. Only when she lifted her face again, the telltale shining tracks of tears still fresh on her cheeks, did he realize the reason for her reserve.
He sat up abruptly, concern furrowing his brow and opened his mouth to speak when she began to whisper, her hand absently digging at the soft ground between them. Her eyes were lost and unfocused as she spoke, and it was impossible to discern if she was talking to him, or if she was lost in the past. It wasn’t until she pinned him with her gaze, her blue eyes intense despite the dim firelight as she fiercely addressed him, that he was sure she had remembered his presence.
At her whispered plea he reached towards her, the sorrow in her voice tangible as it nearly drew answering tears to his own eyes. To carry so much sadness seemed too great a burden for such a small woman, and Pavak was overcome with guilt for stirring it up. His hand hovered near her shoulder, desperate to give the Seda some measure of comfort but unsure of his welcome. Reluctantly he drew it back after the faintest of brushes and shook his own head sadly, realizing she was not one to accept the touch of a stranger.
“Seda, Seda...tsino chirikla...” he murmured softly, lacing his fingers together around his knees as he pulled them in toward his chest to keep from reaching for her again, shaking his head in dismay. “Who is it you have pulled your feathers out for?” Pity and anger welled up in him, that anyone should have the power to reduce to such devastation the strong woman that had attacked him so fearlessly earlier.
She seemed to turn away then, as if she could bock out the past, could huddle small enough and hide under the blankets of the night that the memories couldn’t find her. While he was flattered a bit at her fierce protests, he didn’t fool himself into thinking it was really about him. There was much more to this outburst than appeared, and it seemed his story had pulled more than a few skeletons out of the closet. It broke his heart to see her so, and to know that he had caused it.
“I promise,” he said carefully, hoping to mollify her before she did herself harm or began crying again. Spirits, he didn’t think he could take that. He’d never been able to resist a crying woman. He watched her for a moment, the slow slide of tears as they drifted their way down her cheeks.
“Feathers do grow back, you know. Even the plucked crane can be beautiful again.” He smiled at her then, a small earnest smile, hoping she could hear the truth he spoke. Even broken she was unlike anyone he’d met before. “Sometimes we have to shed our old plumes for the brighter ones to come in.”
He still wanted to give her some consolation, something other than words and platitudes, but he was wary of her reaction. She seemed too feral for the hug he would give any other woman...but perhaps that was the answer. If she was half-wild, then he would do the same.
The soft blue glow of his magic washed over their campsite briefly as he gathered the spell, his perspective shrinking and the chill bite of the evening getting lost within dense fur. He cocked his lupine head at Seda, a tiny anxious whine trickling out as he caught the scent of her tears still in the air. Rising from his haunches he padded softly over towards her, giving her time to adjust to the change. When she didn’t seem to run away or stab him yet again he curled up against her side where she lay, offering her his warmth and the weight of a body beside her. He tucked his nose beneath the end of his tail to protect it from the cold night and closed his eyes, waiting to see if she would turn him away or scoot closer.
It seemed a small shelter, indeed, against the wailing ghosts of the past. But it was all he could offer.