seal my heart and break my pride; woolf

[munroe]

MUNROE. He scoffs in response to the other’s statement. It was true that he greatly relied upon Ima’s company and those of his fox friends. But, for the most part, he was content to keep his distance from the other desert-dwellers. He didn’t need the extra stress of determining their intentions and the irritation of dealing with the superior attitude that came with them assuming he was slow just because of his complications with the language. When one was raised by another who was both mute and deaf, then the development of language was practically nonexistent. When Ima had found him, he could barely manage simple words. He’s since moved onto poorly structured sentences but it was enough for him to get the general gist of his thoughts across. Magic could be both sides of the coin. Ima’s was everything that embodied wonder and comfort and warmth. But all his encounters outside of the deserts had resulted in kidnapping and mentally painful experiences. Sometimes they had been so painful that he has unconsciously chosen to repress the majority of his memory of them of ever have even occurring. He’s learned that it was better to be overly cautious instead of naively trusting. The mulberry boy appears to be almost offended by Munroe’s declaration. He seems to be of the opinion that the wild child was of the dramatic sort. Instead, it was just the opposite for he did everything in his power to stay downwind of such troublesome things. But he appears to be a magnet of sorts for drama and he can’t help but barely keep his head above water at times. This time the wind is soft and gently cards its fingers through his windswept hair and gently caresses his sides. But Munroe could not be gentled by an obvious ploy to let his guard down. Not after that first showing of intimidation. He couldn’t quite trust someone who was swift in flaunting themselves before a mere ‘hello’ could even be spoken. “No. First was bad wind. You shouldn’t quick to scare.”