snow on snow on snow [closed to hana]

[fairywren]

Snow may be falling, but that doesn't mean the dog doesn't need to be walked. Wren's a silhouette against it, big flakes that fall thickly and in swirls that quickly camouflage Inari's curious figure except for a black nose and eyes and threaten to cover up the dark of Wren's coat. There's almost - but not quite - enough cloud cover that the glitter of the crystals is smothered.

There's a quietness to it, a silent expectant feeling that only comes with falling snow.

It's getting cold quickly, though, too, and he cups his hands around his phone, pulling it out to text Hana as he waits for the dog to come back. Tell me you're not stuck feeding tigers in this, he texts with a small smile.

Comments

[suisen]

The smile is what she wants and Hana thanks him with a little smile of her own. With Wren, the way their powers twine and marry, even his raw fear is easier than the tumult of emotions she feels when walking in a crowd. He's familiar and their language is singular.

Hana looks at him with a practical sort of face, one that suggests that that should be obvious. Of course love isn't always enough, she replies. Love is... How to express what she thinks without losing him in the signs?

It's like planting a garden. If you're lucky, all you have to do is throw the seeds into the soil and it takes hold without any effort. But most people have to put more into it. Time. Attention. Water. Plant food. Hard work. Love is the seeds and soil, the foundation, but it rarely flourishes without attendance.

But that doesn't make it painless when it goes wrong.

[fairywren]

Her unafraid, logical response does a lot to anchor his runaway fear, and he pays close attention as she talks. Not all the signs are familiar to him, but in context he understands.

Wren shakes his head no in agreement to that last bit with a flicker of a raised eyebrow. It definitely doesn't.

I love flowers, he says with a little bit of a smile. Somehow the pun is easier than saying too much. But a smart gardener doesn't choose rock to plant in.

He's been told enough times how selfish he is, ungrateful, afraid: he's pretty sure he doesn't qualify as anything nurturing. Though if anyone was the vine to break through sidewalk he suspects Hana is: she's determined. Much moreso than he is.

[suisen]

Hana's had to live pragmatically, even before running away from home. In this case, she's talking about love needing work, but it's true for her of all friendships. Outside of the deaf community, any form of communication, any friendship takes effort and patience. It can be hard and heartbreaking, but so can plenty of other things.

You're not a rock, Hana signs. Just a rock star.

And if he's willing to try with her, Hana's not afraid of seeing what can grow.

Tonight got heavy. Weren't we supposed to eat cookies and watch the snow?

[fairywren]

He smirks at the play on words: even if he's dubious about her fearlessness, he can't deny it, and he nudges her into a kiss.

Artists, so dramatic, he signs, and smiles in apology, shifting to stretch past her and grab a cookie to hold up with a penitent look.

[suisen]

Very dramatic. Smiling, Hana leans over and gives him a brief kiss before taking another cookie and touching it to his in a silly toast.

She has faith in them.