He nudges at her with his elbow -- the point of bone against her side dulled only by the thin stretch of skin over it. "Oi. Not that fucking far," he says with a grin that tugs up to one side, making him look completely up to good at all (never am, never will be, amen to that). His voice, however, is wry as the space between them fills with the mist that quickly dissipates, condensing on their cold, borrowed faces. Lifting to fingers he points at her, though the gesture's accusation still manages a sort of kindness. More squinting, the color of his eyes still showing brightly between his dark lashes.
"Y'know, you're not nearly as happy to see me as you should be, coz." He parrots her, making his voice soft and quiet in rough estimation. "'I do not think it will snow tonight'? Is that supposed to be a challenge? Cause say the word and you know I will backhand clear skies into next fucking week, I shit you not."
Psônen pauses and in that pause, widens his eyes again, making himself look briefly earnest. Another nudge, this time with his hand. "C'mon. Cheer up, foxy. I just got here."
The little startled look returns to her face for a moment when he nudges her with his elbow-- a gentle little push she feels just barely through the thick fur of her winter coat. Her pale eyebrows arch high on her forehead before slowly drawing back down towards each other, pinching in an expression that is mildly disapproving. She tilts her head almost questioningly, just ever so slightly skeptical.
"I am very pleased to see you, cousin," the fox answers, her quiet tone still sounding a bit reproving. "But, I simply could not ask you to use your powers on my behalf."
She hesitates. She wants to, yes-- nothing comforts her like the snow-- but it wouldn't be right, would it? She is a protector spirit, with responsibilities as a spiritual being. To act on her whims and ask the eagle for such a favor-- would it not be selfish?
"Still, it is very kind of you to offer. You are kind to your kin, Psônen."
"Nah," he says and gives a little shuffle of his feet, his shoulders rolling as if they were feathers needing to be unruffled before settling back down into his crouch yet again. "Not really. Kiso's a pompous ass and Waddy wouldn't know how to ditch the high-and-mighty bullshit if his life depended on it." Psônen gives his teeth a little snap of irritation behind his lips. He's never liked his brothers, which is fair because they've never really liked him back, so it's more than just a little true when he says: "Hard not to be nice to you, coz. It's those fucking puppy dog eyes of yours, y'know. An' the fact that you never use 'em. That means when you go around flashing the shiny bastards, I know you mean it."
He points at her again and gives a wink before looking up at the sky. A slow exhale, one that he seems to enjoy passing between his thin lips. "Don't worry. It'll snow."
He's strange and a little charming in his own way, her cousin. Rough around the edges, certainly, and perhaps less ethereal than a spirit of the sky should be, but. It's forgivable, especially when he is being kind to her. The world has become a foreign place to her-- crowds, busy streets, tall buildings-- and in the moments that someone is kind to her, she is quietly moved. The faintest hint of a smile curves at her mouth.
"Perhaps the weatherman would have changed his mind," the fox answers lightly, "If he had known my cousin Psônen was such a generous spirit."
She pauses, then perhaps with a touch of hope, she asks in a softer voice still, "Will you really make it snow, cousin?"
"Y'know, you're not nearly as happy to see me as you should be, coz." He parrots her, making his voice soft and quiet in rough estimation. "'I do not think it will snow tonight'? Is that supposed to be a challenge? Cause say the word and you know I will backhand clear skies into next fucking week, I shit you not."
Psônen pauses and in that pause, widens his eyes again, making himself look briefly earnest. Another nudge, this time with his hand. "C'mon. Cheer up, foxy. I just got here."
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"I am very pleased to see you, cousin," the fox answers, her quiet tone still sounding a bit reproving. "But, I simply could not ask you to use your powers on my behalf."
She hesitates. She wants to, yes-- nothing comforts her like the snow-- but it wouldn't be right, would it? She is a protector spirit, with responsibilities as a spiritual being. To act on her whims and ask the eagle for such a favor-- would it not be selfish?
"Still, it is very kind of you to offer. You are kind to your kin, Psônen."
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He points at her again and gives a wink before looking up at the sky. A slow exhale, one that he seems to enjoy passing between his thin lips. "Don't worry. It'll snow."
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"Perhaps the weatherman would have changed his mind," the fox answers lightly, "If he had known my cousin Psônen was such a generous spirit."
She pauses, then perhaps with a touch of hope, she asks in a softer voice still, "Will you really make it snow, cousin?"
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