#bergen_county

"This is gonna sound weird, but..." He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. "Can I have... a hug?"

One of the horses snorts, and Symon shoots her a look that promises a short trip to the glue factory...

"You're my best friend. I.. I just... a brother would be closer than a friend, maybe?"

"Oof. I suck at this." And she reaches over to pull Symon into a FIRM hug.

He wheezes for a second in surprise, but then wraps his arms around her as well. At least, most of the way - his finger tips might even touch!

For all that he's a clammy, scrawny, his hug back is solid, and warm. He'll never be tall like a troll, but he has grown from the spindly kid she first met being bullied into a corner. His hands don't roam, there is no expectation, or demand, just comfort, in touch. He draws away after a few moments, before it can last overlong and get... weird.

"Before this all happened... I was thinking. For a while, actually. You were talking before... about oaths. There's the motley oath.. which is one thing, and not saying that wouldn't be a thing... I was thinking... we could be more than just friends. There's the Oath of Clasped Hands. If you wanted, that is. I'd swear that. With you."

She considers this.

"I mean, I wouldn't be less of a friend, if you didn't want to." True. "But sometimes, it's nice to have the Dreaming back it up, right?"

"I mean, I like Oaths. They're a way of... showing, right? How much stuff means?"

He nods. "Talk is cheap, but words have power."

"Exactly."

"Think about it? Let me know. Either way. It's... okay." He nods, and a bit of a weight seems to have lifted from him. He's not cheerful, or jubilant, but when is he ever? But he does seem - just as he said. He's Symon, and he's okay.

"I think... I think I like the idea?"

A smile, thin and gummy. "Yeah? Me too. You know, with an oath - with friends, with a motley, whoever? You know that even if you're not together, you still have that tie. The dreaming makes sure of it. Even if people leave or travel or go to different schools." He offers, then adds, "Just a thought. I'm still not letting you wander off without me. I can't adventure without you, after all. It's like, if I were Link, you'd be my sword. 'It's dangerous to go alone - take this." A dry laugh. "Stupid, right?"

"Oaths are magic. Yeah. Distance doesn'tmatter."

He nods. "Right." A glance down at the thing she was working on. "Mind if I hang out for a bit while you carve? I didn't want to get in the way of your work. I had some notes to go over anyway."

"I'd like that, yeah."

He draws up a chair next to hers. They survived a talk. And now, they can have companionable quiet.

Even if he mutters something weird now and again... "...bioluminescense... " Or "...but the brain in it's arms..."

Scribble scribble go the notes!

Dag might not know what he's on about, but she likes having him there.

Her carving forms a quiet steady rhythm in counterpoint to his work.

Every so often he might pause in his thoughts to give Dagmar a glance, but there is no question in his look, just, yep. She's still here. And things are Okay.

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