[When his hand doesn't move, she catches it in fussing, non-penetrating teeth. The open-mouthed whining play wolves, and even dogs, do with each other. And as she collects his thoughts, she rolls over partially on her back, upside down head, paws the air, wriggles closer to paw him. She makes a fool of herself to make him notice her physicality. By the time he unintentionally mentions his loneliness, she's laying over his gut, and a huff blows free from her muzzle.]
Sleep is essential. Particularly for people. [One of her ears cocks back to him.] If you haven't the stamina to endure the day, you won't have the stamina to make new connections, which could potentially lead to feeling this way less.
[Moving back, she lazily sits up and shakes her heavy head in irritation, then adjusts to scratch the inside of one ear, groaning faintly. Her tone isn't meant as uncaring. It's still a matter of her not having the humanity to understand deeply. She's endured a fixed loneliness for hundreds of years, but she often distracts herself from dwelling on it, or forgets about it altogether in favor of other things. Her methods would be too simple-minded for him.]
It may be difficult, but sleeping means you won't have to think about being the only one awake. You shouldn't set aside your body's basic needs because you feel a little bad, you know. You have to take care of yourself. To stay awake and feel poorly is almost like punishing yourself, which is never beneficial and completely useless.
[Her energy most of the time aside, she was awoken as a sliver of what she used to be, too soon for life again, far too early, and she has a tiredness that sticks to her like a second skin, one she has trouble shaking to the fullest. She's no human; she's a god who has less experience on earth and around people than she did in her own domain, housed in the body of a wild animal, and her thoughts are simple, not twisted into complexities by what it means to be human. It hasn't occurred to her that if he's lonely, he may struggle to sleep with that kind of weight on him. She thinks it's an easy solution. The goodness of her, though, means she comes to simple conclusions: if it's late, and one is lonely, then sleep so you might see people the next day; if you're hungry, eat; if you're agitated, dig at the dirt.
She's already trying to wedge under his arm, and despite her words seeming indifferent, her inflection hasn't been.]
no subject
Sleep is essential. Particularly for people. [One of her ears cocks back to him.] If you haven't the stamina to endure the day, you won't have the stamina to make new connections, which could potentially lead to feeling this way less.
[Moving back, she lazily sits up and shakes her heavy head in irritation, then adjusts to scratch the inside of one ear, groaning faintly. Her tone isn't meant as uncaring. It's still a matter of her not having the humanity to understand deeply. She's endured a fixed loneliness for hundreds of years, but she often distracts herself from dwelling on it, or forgets about it altogether in favor of other things. Her methods would be too simple-minded for him.]
It may be difficult, but sleeping means you won't have to think about being the only one awake. You shouldn't set aside your body's basic needs because you feel a little bad, you know. You have to take care of yourself. To stay awake and feel poorly is almost like punishing yourself, which is never beneficial and completely useless.
[Her energy most of the time aside, she was awoken as a sliver of what she used to be, too soon for life again, far too early, and she has a tiredness that sticks to her like a second skin, one she has trouble shaking to the fullest. She's no human; she's a god who has less experience on earth and around people than she did in her own domain, housed in the body of a wild animal, and her thoughts are simple, not twisted into complexities by what it means to be human. It hasn't occurred to her that if he's lonely, he may struggle to sleep with that kind of weight on him. She thinks it's an easy solution. The goodness of her, though, means she comes to simple conclusions: if it's late, and one is lonely, then sleep so you might see people the next day; if you're hungry, eat; if you're agitated, dig at the dirt.
She's already trying to wedge under his arm, and despite her words seeming indifferent, her inflection hasn't been.]