[She hates him. She really, really does. Hates that he's the one to be able to lift even a little of that sadness. Wishes he'd take all of it, wrap himself up in a mantle of it and recede into the Great Dark Mist whilst choking on that sorrow, because he's the cause of half of what he soothes.
But.
It's more important that Priscilla isn't sad.
She feels weak for thinking this - for giving in - for even being grateful for his presence for a moment.
These moments, however (and Priscilla lifts her head a little just now as she's thinking this) are worth it.
Worth his presence.
She scratches lightly behind the curious fox's ear.
no subject
But.
It's more important that Priscilla isn't sad.
She feels weak for thinking this - for giving in - for even being grateful for his presence for a moment.
These moments, however (and Priscilla lifts her head a little just now as she's thinking this) are worth it.
Worth his presence.
She scratches lightly behind the curious fox's ear.
What a fucked up turn of events, eh Noel?]