[ Were it not for Claude's own delayed removal of his own frown, Hilda might not have caught it. It's as if she's trying to relearn this face, regrasp a language that she thought she had been proficient in. But the hesitation is enough and it stokes what she can only call anxiousness - before it's jostled out of her by his gentle shoulder nudge.
Kindness from people that rest nearest to her heart has always touched in her ways that make her feel vulnerable. She's never thought that being vulnerable was a bad quality to have - in fact she tries to encourage it in her friends; it's sweet to see someone share parts of themselves with others that they might not otherwise. But she had never considered herself to possess it. Not when she thought there had never been another side of her to share except the pretty, pink painted picture she presented to everyone around her. The birds hadn't pulled a single thing from her in the Featherhive. What is there to show? What is there to lay herself bare for?
And if she knows that, then why do Claude's words make her want to believe otherwise? Why have they always had that power over her even over something as simple and silly as being able to comfort someone? She lets out a short laugh, albeit one that isn't as lighthearted as she would have liked. ]
I don't know. I think you're underestimating how much I credit our little Leosylph with my recovery. [ She gives him a nudge of his shoulder in return, corners of her lips lifting teasingly. ] You and Sylvain were only there because you had thumbs. Maybe Sylvain would be more open to talking to a cute cuddly face with big eyes and whiskers.
[ The whiskers is clearly the bit to differentiate herself from the leosylph. Obviously.
Her faint smile fades after a moment. They both know she'll be there to talk with Sylvain if that's what Claude wants. If that's what they want. But she'd just as easily leave too if that's what they wanted. Something sadder fills her eyes at the thought of that before she pushes it away, only for it to be replaced by all the times that she had seen Claude hurting. Her hand slips from his stomach to wrap around his waist. ]
You don't have to apologize. You've done enough of it. [ Whereas she hasn't apologized enough. ] As for all of those times...anyone would have done the same. I just hate seeing you in any state like that whether that's sad, or hurt, or shaken. [ There's a pause. ] Like in the Featherhive.
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Kindness from people that rest nearest to her heart has always touched in her ways that make her feel vulnerable. She's never thought that being vulnerable was a bad quality to have - in fact she tries to encourage it in her friends; it's sweet to see someone share parts of themselves with others that they might not otherwise. But she had never considered herself to possess it. Not when she thought there had never been another side of her to share except the pretty, pink painted picture she presented to everyone around her. The birds hadn't pulled a single thing from her in the Featherhive. What is there to show? What is there to lay herself bare for?
And if she knows that, then why do Claude's words make her want to believe otherwise? Why have they always had that power over her even over something as simple and silly as being able to comfort someone? She lets out a short laugh, albeit one that isn't as lighthearted as she would have liked. ]
I don't know. I think you're underestimating how much I credit our little Leosylph with my recovery. [ She gives him a nudge of his shoulder in return, corners of her lips lifting teasingly. ] You and Sylvain were only there because you had thumbs. Maybe Sylvain would be more open to talking to a cute cuddly face with big eyes and whiskers.
[ The whiskers is clearly the bit to differentiate herself from the leosylph. Obviously.
Her faint smile fades after a moment. They both know she'll be there to talk with Sylvain if that's what Claude wants. If that's what they want. But she'd just as easily leave too if that's what they wanted. Something sadder fills her eyes at the thought of that before she pushes it away, only for it to be replaced by all the times that she had seen Claude hurting. Her hand slips from his stomach to wrap around his waist. ]
You don't have to apologize. You've done enough of it. [ Whereas she hasn't apologized enough. ] As for all of those times...anyone would have done the same. I just hate seeing you in any state like that whether that's sad, or hurt, or shaken. [ There's a pause. ] Like in the Featherhive.