mikhailkadyrov:
Every word of Moose’s update was absorbed fully, committed to memory. Mikhail wasn’t the one who knew this boy, but Gavriil certainly did – and Mikhail definitely knew of his friend’s fondness and attachment to this kid. So when Moose suggested they give up on him, an icy spear pierced Lesya’s heart and every semblance of a smile faded. "That … doesn’t sound like the Moose I know. Giving up on someone. Did something happen? Is Pup showing signs of switching to the Rosteks?“ he asked, muted alarm behind his eyes. "We’re Lesyas, Gavriil. We don’t give up on people, especially the young ones, especially those who seem like lost causes. And you say that Pup likes you. He respects you, he looks up to you. There is potential there for you to get through to him. So maybe, what you need to focus on is less about persuasion, and more … getting to the root of why he declines. Is it a trust issue? Is he afraid? Get him to open up to you, to talk to you about the reasons why he is so hesitant. He’s worth saving. Because if we don’t … then the alternative will find him, and we both know they’ll be nowhere near as kind or understanding.”
“It’s not that he’s showing signs. I’m just thinking... maybe he doesn’t need the stress of picking a side. The kid’s got too much going on, anyway.” He didn’t like it, in fact, he never liked it, how Pup’s smile was sometimes forced whenever he was with strangers, how the boy’s eyes looked down half the time. And when Pup finally could summon up enough courage to lock a stare with someone, anyone, he looked lost. Moose wanted to be there for him, that was obvious. But one thing was for certain: Pup needed a break from the chaos and the fighting, even if he thought he didn’t deserve one.
Moose sat quiet through Mikhail’s lecture, processing every word. The worst part was that Mikhail was right: Moose had to act fast, if not faster. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Guess I owe you a drink or something.”
