There was something about her desperation that broke his heart. He could feel the initial curiosity that had drew him near vanish with her distressed cry, to be quickly replaced by anguish mixed with a sense of shame. It wasn’t quite shame for her, but rather, for himself. He glanced down at his own feet, something he had taken for granted up to this point, and realized suddenly how useless he would be without them (and, well, without his strange abilities). He looked back to her, now floating in the air, and realized she probably lacked those abilities as well – or she wouldn’t be in this unfortunate situation.
With a sigh, he then glanced about the den, wondering if her mother was nearby. Yet, deep in his heart, he knew the answer – she probably had deserted the child. He didn’t blame her; he had no doubt it wasn’t done out of malice, but more likely, the inability to help. Well, maybe for once, he could do something useful for someone else… With a small smile, he returned his gaze to her.
As she reached her neck out, he felt himself doing the same, unable to stop himself. His muzzle inched forward cautiously until they just lightly brushed hers, and with a deep inhale, he took in her scent. He then moves it to the right, allowing his muzzle to just gently brush against the side of her cheek – his best attempt at some sort of maternal comfort, as she offers her gratitude. But he is no mother – not even a parent – and awkwardly withdraws after that brief touch to merely watch her with sympathetic eyes.
“Petya,” he repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. His voice had lost the cheery character from earlier, to be replaced with a softer, gentler tone. “I’m Clark,” he continued before falling silent for a moment, his gaze traveling from her face to her leg-less body and back. “You’ve never been able to move much, I’m guessing?” He was trying, but definitely lacked the gentle motherly instincts (or eloquence).
He thought for a moment, wondering what would be the best solution. He doubted his ability to return her legs to her (knowing him, she’d accidentally end up with giraffe or ant legs, and what a fright that might be). But here she was, floating… that was a start. “Would some wings help?” Right on cue, a small set of teal butterfly wings appeared from her withers. Bordered by a vivid, shiny ebony, they glimmered and sparkled in the midday sun. Yet, the tobiano blushed sheepishly… he had intended for them to be teal feathers on two majestic eagle-like wings instead. Whoops.
“Or, would you rather just be able to float everywhere instead without wings?” he quickly added, hoping to cover his mistake by offering another option.
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly
whether there will be another card