milliways_bar | (no subject)

Dream may be the only being in the bar able to heft Yrael onto his lap for petting without, in the slightest, failing to keep sight of Yrael's true form.

"Do you care to speak of it, my friend?"

*Yrael takes the lifting with good grace, as far as a catshape can, with his legs out straight at frantic-looking angles.*

Svava read her letter from the Landlord. She has to choose whether to go and ~~die~~ fight at the end of her world, or stay here.

"And you do not wish her to go."

He sends cool fingers down Yrael's back, smoothing the not'fur with not'fingers of his own.

Two only-vaguely-physical beings makes for hard writing.

*It really does, doesn't it?*

*Yrael purrs, calmed somewhat but still looking troubled* No. I do not wish her to go. It hurts, but I would not keep her from making her own choice.

*He has had enough experience with choices being made for him that he would rather suffer than do it to someone else. Especially someone he cares about.*

"You have grown."

He continues to sooth the troubled Bright Shiner with gentle petting,

"You have my hopes that she will return."

*Yrael lowers his head onto his paws. He certainly doesn't feel like he has grown. It feels like the same things keep happening again and again, and it always hurts.* Thank you, my friend.

"Once upon a time, a Mogget I knew would have said or done anything to keep her here."

He rubs the dome of the cat-shaped head between the ears,

"And that could only have hurt you both in the end."

*Yrael cannot lower his head any more, so he just closes his eyes and purrs at the rubbing.*

Things have happened since then. It would hurt worse to hold her against her will than to let her go.

*He fears parallels. He fears history repeating itself.*

"As I said, you have grown."

He would be comforting if he knew how. Dream, unfortunately, doesn't know how. He is, after all, not the most comfortable of Endless.

"What will you do if she does not come back?"

Somehow the fingers, curving down the spine of the not'cat, seem to spark an idea.

*He speaks easily but quietly, as one who knows exactly their answer.* A song, to remember her as well as I might. Telling all who hear of all the little things that make her who she is, and that make her mean so much to those who care about her. If she cannot be here in the flesh, she shall be here in song, so that she shall never be truly lost.

And Dream smiles. It is a small, secret smile; like a cat smiles.