"We can take Jampa somewhere together. Let me speak to Tenzin; perhaps we can all visit Pegasus some time soon? You can lead us there," he added, with a nod. He hated to see James upset, but some part of him saw it as catharsis; the horse had, he hoped, worked through some things tonight. "Let me get back to her, for now, and you to your family, or to rest. Come by--tomorrow, perhaps? Or the next day? We will work it out," he added, reassuringly.

He rolled his shoulders, stepping a few paces off, preparing to depart. "Tell me how it works out with Comet, and with Tahi-shei. And send them both my regards," he added. "As for jewelry--yes; I will leave it to you what sort. Whatever you think best," he added--and then, thoughtful, with a smile in his tone, "I am certain Jampa would love such a gift, too, if you can."

@James

James nodded and stood, stretching out before trotting after Pride to see him depart, "Of course. If Comet's home tonight, I'll talk to her then. Goodbye, teacher, I hope you have a good day, and wish Jampa well, too."

He smiled and stepped back, turning to return to his bed, flopping down in absolute exhaustion.

That was enough emotional turmoil for one day. He curled up and sighed gently, remaining there for a moment or two before standing up and moving towards the chrysalis instead.

He flopped down there and rested his head against the stone, trilling quietly as he rested, waiting for Comet to come home.

Exit?
@Pride

"Ahh, and friend, James, don't forget that." A bow of his head--friendly, but regal--and he was turning, ducking through the ruins' doorway and out into Orion. "Rest well, and please, come find me if you need me. You know where I will be," he added.

Part of him was aching to get back--to see his daughter, to check her over (a father's instincts). But Mischief was keeping watch, a tired but alert watch with the senses of a hare, and so Pride's departure was unhurried. He didn't rush away from James, instead offering him another nod, a glance--as if to assure himself that the horse was all right.

Only then did he leave, picking up into a clipping trot. He felt drained--but that was all right. He hadn't realized how much weight lay on James. I will have to keep a closer eye on him, in the future, he decided--not to supervise, or to oversee. But he should have been there--should have pushed harder to meet this Aristotle. He hadn't, and James, perhaps, had paid the price.

At the very least he'd be there in the future for when the horse wanted to talk. And hopefully next time, James wouldn't wait quite so long to do so.

Pride hoped that this time, at least, had been some comfort to him, and some help.

exit Pride