[ Now it's Brendan's turn to be confused. He doesn't remember a flower, though he knows who 'she' is. After all, he only has one 'she'. Everything else beyond that single truth is vague or lost completely. ]
[ Brendan's eyes go a little large. Part of him feels like he shouldn't be surprised. Pussy keeps lots of things, tosses them about in piles to be found or lost later on. But part of him is surprised and a little amazed. ]
[ He smiles, just a little, but the more that he thinks of it, the sadder it seems to make him. His shoulders droop and he looks away at some random spot on the floor. ]
It's probably better if she lost it. The things I do and say. They just make her sadder. Eventually.
[She is sad for him, his brave face doesn't work on her at all. She burrows into his shirt front quietly, little arms giving little hugs. She can't even quite assure him that the moth was happy, the moments she was privy to, the rose in her hair, in her fingers, hadn't all been happy.]
Of course, um. Doesn't everyone?
Reply
Reply
I hope so. But-- [ A shrug. ] --what do I know.
Reply
I... do not understand, Brendan.
Reply
Reply
Love. No, I know love, I was there in the flower you gave her. [That seems to help, she pushes forward a little more surely.] So, you do know.
Reply
I gave her a flower...?
Reply
Reply
She kept it? Really? You mean, ah. On purpose?
Reply
In a cup at the house with the wolves.
Reply
It's probably better if she lost it. The things I do and say. They just make her sadder. Eventually.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
It was nice, though. For a little while. And she was happy then. I think. Maybe.
[ After a little bit he nods. ] I remember.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment