[A slight tilt of the head presses his cheek against Cy's hand. There's a quiet, thoughtful silence in the wake of that admission—any lingering questions he may have are not crucial, are too vague as they drift through his mind, fed by the river of curiosity that Cy evokes in him. He finds himself wanting to guide them away from the dredge of that awful history, at least now; he will think on all that Cy has said later. And if there is more he wants to know, he can ask then.]
no subject
Did you find me a new blanket?