Foxglove's brow furrowed when she said they'd be disappointed in her, and he almost started to say so - but as she continued on, he understood more what her perspective was. She had made the choice
for their sakes.
You wouldn't have disappointed them.
He still voiced once she was quiet.
I can respect that you wanted to give them space for finding their own ways - anyone would appreciate that I think.
If her siblings didn't think the same way, he would have been shocked. And now that they were
here and apparently she couldn't see them fully anymore, there was no harm in telling Shiloh if she wanted. Fox wouldn't have pushed either way, it wasn't like
he was the authority on the Goldencourtes dynamics. It would have been presumptuous of him to insert himself that way.
There was a curiosity in him and he instinctively moved closer, as if trying to catch every whisper she offered, even if she was speaking clearly.
Fatin could choose when and what form she took - but it was always a wolf. She'd heard of others that couldn't choose, and I think that would have been awful.
Foxglove held that little glimmer of familiarity between them close, finding comfort in the fact that something bound both of their previous worlds together. What if they'd had the
same world, just different parts of it?
What form would you have chosen?
Foxglove asked curiously, because he'd
only had this form it was hard for him to imagine what else he might have become.
His ears shifted forward, cupped towards her as the intensity grew on her face. She stopped them from going forward and her gaze shot right through him, pinning him easily in place.
Oh. It was like that? Her facade cracked slowly, a little twitch to her lips, a light dancing in her eyes, all of it told him the truth. He could follow her lead, mirroring her actions. If she could, he could, right? His ears twitched as she explained her family more.
That must have been hard.
He did not know how he would have felt if his siblings had all been given these extraordinary things, and then he was just....
himself.
But how astounding that all of you had such gifts.
He had no knowledge of La Familia Madrigal, or else he might have suggested Vixen reach out to Mirabel. There was no time to even think as Fable shot off, steps light as if she were the fae she had often described, just flitting along.
Still, Foxglove found her excitement to be infectious, and he was all but skipping along behind her like
he knew this place or what was special about it. If he could shift and choose his form, it would have been an owl currently - with the way he was swiveling his head to try and see everything and take it all in. He didn't exactly need to have
lived it to see all of the ways that this sacred space was full of revelry. The blend of scents from the spiced drinks and food was intoxicating, but Foxglove wasn't sure if it was the combination of scents and the residual magic that made his head swim. He fixed his gaze back on her when she spoke, a little smile on his face.
S'nice to see it with you.
He admitted.
Hearing stories is one thing but....being here with you is another.
He didn't particularly fixate on his own wording about being
with her there - he'd only meant it was something nice that he got to share with her. Foxglove could see it now, and when she told him stories, he would be able to understand better where she'd been in his mind's eye. It was strange that for as new as it was, he almost felt it was familiar and cozy rather than intimidating. Or else it was just the comfort he felt
with Fable that took over any other emotion.