04.Jan.14, 12:53 PM
Even at the best of times, Peorray tended to be less than discerning about subtleties. When grieving her only child? Not a chance that she would look beyond her own loss into R'nya's. Wydrith crooned gratefully as R'nya passed her, trusting that the man would put things right again.
The bronzerider's familiar presence did draw the young woman from her grim attention on the sight before her. She'd always appreciated how the man tried to be there for those who'd been Stolen, a friendly face among a world of fantastic beasts and strange new ways, but she tried not to need him. Some of the other girls were much more emotionally fragile than she, needed his support more, and she hadn't wanted to be another stress on him when she could mostly get along by herself.
Now, though, Peorray couldn't hide her tired and vulnerable expression as she let herself be distracted and looked up at R'nya. There were so many things she could say, wanted to say. Wanted to rage and rail and ask 'why?!'. But what was the use? What was, was. All that remained was to deal with it.
"I don't know what to do now." Was what actually came out, a harsh, almost croaking confession. Peorray had never had a child die before, didn't know what to do to process this, make the aching, empty feeling go away. Part of her just wanted to curl up with Wydrith, bathe in the gold's presence and love, but surely there was too much that needed done around here, to allow her time for that?
The bronzerider's familiar presence did draw the young woman from her grim attention on the sight before her. She'd always appreciated how the man tried to be there for those who'd been Stolen, a friendly face among a world of fantastic beasts and strange new ways, but she tried not to need him. Some of the other girls were much more emotionally fragile than she, needed his support more, and she hadn't wanted to be another stress on him when she could mostly get along by herself.
Now, though, Peorray couldn't hide her tired and vulnerable expression as she let herself be distracted and looked up at R'nya. There were so many things she could say, wanted to say. Wanted to rage and rail and ask 'why?!'. But what was the use? What was, was. All that remained was to deal with it.
"I don't know what to do now." Was what actually came out, a harsh, almost croaking confession. Peorray had never had a child die before, didn't know what to do to process this, make the aching, empty feeling go away. Part of her just wanted to curl up with Wydrith, bathe in the gold's presence and love, but surely there was too much that needed done around here, to allow her time for that?