Welcome to Gaia! ::

In the time Guiliaume had spent in the village, he had come to know Aziza could be uncannily accurate in her observations. On many occasions, he had found himself uncomfortable in the face of her responses, not knowing how to respond, or even if he should response. Most often his reaction had been to flush uncomfortably (which, thanks to his coat coloration, was an unseen reaction!) , but there had been times where his first impulse had been to be indignant, or even angry. Many times, he had asked himself, ‘why do you keep opening the door to such things when you know they will only upset you to hear them?’ Over and over he had asked himself this question, before he had somewhat grudgingly come to his answer; he must ask because somewhere, deep down, he knew he needed to hear what she had to say.

Since coming to that realization, he had ceased becoming angry, or indignant, but he couldn’t’ deny that he still often found himself feeling uncomfortable. Right now was no exception, because he knew she was right. He was continuing to dwell on the past and his family issues while still taking no steps to go back and deal with them. Instead, he remained as he was, in comfortable seclusion. That was one thing. But he continued to feel the weight of his dilemma and to let it worm its way into every facet of his life.
Really, he was getting to be a rather tiresome fellow.

He came to an abrupt stop on the edge of the village, looking out into the wide expanse of meadowland beyond. They often walked there, and he enjoyed the airy openness of it all. To be sure, it would never do for him to live there; with his coat, he would stand out like a beacon in the plains. But it was a nice temporary escape from the crush of buildings and people; even now, when he had ceased to be a novelty, he could feel as though he were drowning in people.

But at the end of the day, it was still his choice to be here.

Turning to Aziza, he courteously offered her his wing. Since she had no wing of her own, it was more a gesture of form than function, but he still liked to be formal when the occasion merited it. “You are right, as usual Aziza. Perhaps my feelings of claustrophobia are a sign that this place, however charming, is not where I need to be. Obviously I need to sit down and determine what my priorities are, at this point, and how best to deal with them. But in the meantime, is there anywhere I may escort you?”

There was no need to go out to the meadow today.