Bodhi isn't moved tonight by any spike in his usual levels of personal crises. This is just his usual way of coping when there's nothing to keep him dutifully at home, squinting at chores around moonlight and guttering candles. He actually did try to sleep this time, after he finished folding the laundry. Stretched out on the sofa to wait for dawn and couldn't keep his eyes closed. Couldn't lie there and stare at the ceiling without the ghosts getting after him, couldn't even bear the weight of a blanket on him. Trying seemed like a waste of time.
He'd rather walk, anyway. He does it whenever he can justify it in daylight, too, but it's better at night, alone with cool air that feels nothing at all like home, too soft and wet. He has actually pulled his cloak on over the tunics and sash and properly fastened his headscarf in deference, though. Cold is cold.
Usually he wanders into the trees. Stays close to home, aware of potential dangers and also of unfamiliar paths, but it's in the alien calm of the forest that he seems best able to slow his head down and get it to follow the paths he wants it to. Tonight is an exception mainly because he remembered about the foxes, and thought it might be best to do his wandering somewhere with a bit more visibility. In the same spirit, he has Aurora with him. She doesn't interfere with being alone, somehow, and she does seem concerned when he slips out alone sometimes.
He almost turns around when he spots a silhouette in the field. There's somewhere else to be, certainly. He's halfway through spinning on his heel, perfectly incurious about what would bring out a second wanderer, when he recognizes the fall of Jude's hair. There's not a lot to distinguish one shadow from another, especially in a town where everyone is a human, but he... apparently knows that gravity-noncompliant tumble well enough to spot it in even an outline as faint as this.
Also Aurora wants to say hi. He has no idea what Jude's feelings are in dog terms, so he catches her collar gently before she can go introduce herself. Starting Jude up close would be worse than bothering him now and being told to fuck off, so, voice still low, he ventures, "Come here often?" Because apparently some terrible jokes survived into space-faring civilizations.
no subject
He'd rather walk, anyway. He does it whenever he can justify it in daylight, too, but it's better at night, alone with cool air that feels nothing at all like home, too soft and wet. He has actually pulled his cloak on over the tunics and sash and properly fastened his headscarf in deference, though. Cold is cold.
Usually he wanders into the trees. Stays close to home, aware of potential dangers and also of unfamiliar paths, but it's in the alien calm of the forest that he seems best able to slow his head down and get it to follow the paths he wants it to. Tonight is an exception mainly because he remembered about the foxes, and thought it might be best to do his wandering somewhere with a bit more visibility. In the same spirit, he has Aurora with him. She doesn't interfere with being alone, somehow, and she does seem concerned when he slips out alone sometimes.
He almost turns around when he spots a silhouette in the field. There's somewhere else to be, certainly. He's halfway through spinning on his heel, perfectly incurious about what would bring out a second wanderer, when he recognizes the fall of Jude's hair. There's not a lot to distinguish one shadow from another, especially in a town where everyone is a human, but he... apparently knows that gravity-noncompliant tumble well enough to spot it in even an outline as faint as this.
Also Aurora wants to say hi. He has no idea what Jude's feelings are in dog terms, so he catches her collar gently before she can go introduce herself. Starting Jude up close would be worse than bothering him now and being told to fuck off, so, voice still low, he ventures, "Come here often?" Because apparently some terrible jokes survived into space-faring civilizations.