Kuro continues to hum to himself, at first unawares of the slow spiral of negative emotions building in his companion. [i]'This is nice. I know that's a human way of thinking, but there is just something inherently nice in strolling along, someone you enjoy being around at your side, the light breeze. . . .If I was romantic or sentimental or something like that, I would even say that this is a poetic picture. . .'[/i] He shakes his head with a chuckle, enjoying the moment, however as the spiral continues in his companion the demon begins noticing. His head turns and he looks down towards Aoba's troubled form. 

[i]'I wonder what's wrong. . .Well, there is a lot wrong with his life right now as far as he's concerned, but it's not like there's been anything to prompt it this time. He seemed fine just a short time ago'[/i] The breeze picks up for a moment, tossing the short brown mop of hair this way and that, the small particles of dirt and other some such drifting along like a passing idea. The tall grass lining the gravel road shivers, making the air about them dance with the sound of them shifting against one another, and as far as Kuro can see, there is no reason for his Little Mouse to be suddenly depressed. Never one for knowing just what to say, the demon tries a different approach to bringing up Aoba's spirits. Shifting all the bags to one hand he reaches out and runs his hand through the smaller male's hair in a comforting manner, smiling softly at him without a word.

~*~*~*~*~

[i]'I wonder if Pops has ever been around for any of our births. I know we weren't allowed to be around for the birth of each other, 'cept maybe Issho, but then again, he's a bit more reserved than the rest of us. As the first born, I think he may have earned the trust of Pops enough to not kill his younger siblings as soon as they are born. I know I, for one, for quite a while, wanted nothing more than to rip Kurotama to little shreds. . .I think Pops called it a. . .Some kind of instinct. . .I know lesser demons loose a lot of kids that way, but now, no matter what, I know I would never kill the little nerd, just play with him. He's so fun to tease, at least when I'm not on some sort of tether'[/i]

Dani rolls this way and that, enjoying the rough yet almost slick feel of the hay against his skin as he lets his thoughts tumble this way and that. Below him the cow looks up every now and again when either a hand of a foot lands hard enough to catch her attention, but for the most part she simply munches on the hay that his tossing drops down through the slates of wood making up the loft. Outside the pigs have settled and the chickens are picking out their nests. Meanwhile the turkey go about their business, jumping every so often when a little chick runs between their legs. Off in the field the cows and sheep graze, a few laying down in the early evening sun and just soaking it all in.

~*~*~*~*~

As confused as he is, and as much as it turns his stomach, Fenrir can not help but apply a bit of logic to the situation he sees before him. Aoba, is traveling with a demon, who seems to be helping him carry groceries, and by the look on his face, seems concerned for the small angel. Everything about the situation makes the arc angel's mind scream of folly, his stomach turning in disgust at the sight of the demon laying a hand on Aoba's head, however even as all this happens to him, a small part of him is touched by the show of concern.

[i]'This is just crazy. Who ever heard of a demon helping an angel? And of all angels, how can Aoba consent to having that filth so close to him?! The taint. . . .Oh all things holy, the taint. . .'[/i] A great sorrow passes over him as for the first time he realizes just how dark the angel's wings have become. [i]'But, even at this level, it shouldn't be enough to have completely robbed him of his angelic instincts. He should reject the demon, naturally, as the rest of us do. . .But then again, Aoba has always been different, and. . . .He was. . . .kind, enough, to help this demon escape in the first place. . .'[/i] A new thought strikes him. 

[i]'I know. . .Demons follow their own code, their own set of rules. Perhaps. . .In helping him escape, and for treating him so well while he was here, the demon somehow now owes Aoba? I can. . .I can almost accept that, except, that would not explain that kind look on his face. . .Who even knew demons could look like that. But then again, most demons an angel sees, they attack. It does not give us much time to examine them. And after all, demon are the spawn of fallen angels, so one can suppose there are remnants. . . .But this is all besides the point!'[/i] He lets out a sigh, his focus returning to the mirror.