[The flurry of movement half-startles Rindo. He can't say it's a surprise, though. He stares, transfixed, slow-moving thoughts colliding against each other as the inertia of urgency wears off.
Part of him is glad that he made it in time, that the ring is at least decent enough for Gladion to feed, that his friend has returned and will—presumably—be okay. (Don't take your eyes off him, lest he disappear again.)
Another part finds this a voyeuristic spectacle. He should look away.
A yet more distant part takes satisfaction in watching a fellow Nymph feast to their heart's content. Like caring for a plant, ensuring its safe growth.
It's that last thought, ultimately, which drags Rindo away from the patch to hug Silvally, whispering words of gratitude into its neck.
…
By the time Gladion comes to, Rindo has sat down outside the patch by the still-open bramble wall, leaning on Silvally. He's spent most of the time with his awareness half tuned into the plant signals around him—as usual, a convenient way to while away the time detached from… unpleasant feelings.
His ears twitch when they pick up on the little sigh. Break time over, then. He stands up, gives Silvally a parting pat, then reenters the patch, each step slow and heavy. He pauses some distance away from Gladion, far enough that he doesn't need to look down to have him in his field of vision.]
…Hey.
[It's a quiet greeting, one that doesn't demand any immediate answer.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-07-21 06:51 am (UTC)Part of him is glad that he made it in time, that the ring is at least decent enough for Gladion to feed, that his friend has returned and will—presumably—be okay. (Don't take your eyes off him, lest he disappear again.)
Another part finds this a voyeuristic spectacle. He should look away.
A yet more distant part takes satisfaction in watching a fellow Nymph feast to their heart's content. Like caring for a plant, ensuring its safe growth.
It's that last thought, ultimately, which drags Rindo away from the patch to hug Silvally, whispering words of gratitude into its neck.
…
By the time Gladion comes to, Rindo has sat down outside the patch by the still-open bramble wall, leaning on Silvally. He's spent most of the time with his awareness half tuned into the plant signals around him—as usual, a convenient way to while away the time detached from… unpleasant feelings.
His ears twitch when they pick up on the little sigh. Break time over, then. He stands up, gives Silvally a parting pat, then reenters the patch, each step slow and heavy. He pauses some distance away from Gladion, far enough that he doesn't need to look down to have him in his field of vision.]
…Hey.
[It's a quiet greeting, one that doesn't demand any immediate answer.]