[ Greg suspected that Gabriel's comment was regarding something about the state of his wings being appropriate for him in general, and the lack of a reply only reinforces that notion. He knows Gabriel feels that way, but hearing it would probably make him cringe.
Because what could he say to that? He doesn't dare breathe a word about hope, as much as he might be desperately holding onto it. This isn't the Hell Gabriel knows, the Heaven that Greg went to isn't the one that Gabriel was from. There is a lot going on here that Greg doesn't understand, and just the fact that he's here in this Hell is enough to keep that spark of hope alive. Maybe he doesn't have anything to say that he thinks could possibly convince Gabriel of the same, but maybe just the fact that he's here gives Gabriel something to hold onto.
He's just as surprised as Gabriel to see those little quills form underneath his fingers. He doesn't understand it, either, but if it's working, he's not going to complain. ]
I don't know. [ The words are little more than a murmur as he brushes his fingertips lightly over a few more displaced feathers. He won't directly touch those brand new quills, he knows how itchy that would be, but he will continue to work around the edges of other bare spots, still sorting feathers and brushing away sort as he goes.
Not every touch is strictly necessary to straighten bent feathers, though. Greg's fingers stroke fondly even over the ones that are whole and not put out of place. He hadn't really intended to go over their entire length like this, but now that he's started, it's hard to want to stop until he's gone over every feather.
Greg's not sure what sort of state Gabriel's going to be in by the time he's done, assuming he lets this go on. He knows that he would be in a bit of one if he was in the receiving end of this much attention, both emotionally and physically. It's affecting him a lot as it is to be on this end of it, though certainly differently than any of his previous experiences so far. ]
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Because what could he say to that? He doesn't dare breathe a word about hope, as much as he might be desperately holding onto it. This isn't the Hell Gabriel knows, the Heaven that Greg went to isn't the one that Gabriel was from. There is a lot going on here that Greg doesn't understand, and just the fact that he's here in this Hell is enough to keep that spark of hope alive. Maybe he doesn't have anything to say that he thinks could possibly convince Gabriel of the same, but maybe just the fact that he's here gives Gabriel something to hold onto.
He's just as surprised as Gabriel to see those little quills form underneath his fingers. He doesn't understand it, either, but if it's working, he's not going to complain. ]
I don't know. [ The words are little more than a murmur as he brushes his fingertips lightly over a few more displaced feathers. He won't directly touch those brand new quills, he knows how itchy that would be, but he will continue to work around the edges of other bare spots, still sorting feathers and brushing away sort as he goes.
Not every touch is strictly necessary to straighten bent feathers, though. Greg's fingers stroke fondly even over the ones that are whole and not put out of place. He hadn't really intended to go over their entire length like this, but now that he's started, it's hard to want to stop until he's gone over every feather.
Greg's not sure what sort of state Gabriel's going to be in by the time he's done, assuming he lets this go on. He knows that he would be in a bit of one if he was in the receiving end of this much attention, both emotionally and physically. It's affecting him a lot as it is to be on this end of it, though certainly differently than any of his previous experiences so far. ]