some nights feel like every night
After the weight of his pack, the monkey seems to barely be a burden, though the sensation of feet on his shoulders is a bit odd. “Oh, okay, sure, come on down.” Falke can feel a big grin spreading despite himself, trying to turn his head and look up and back in order to see the friendly creature. It isn’t until there are tiny, deft little fingers picking through his hair that the Fixer gives up and just lets it do its monkey thing. If he recalls correctly from his reading (many years ago, it seems), it’s an expression of affection.
He also recalls that monkeys tend to move in family groups, which causes him to look back up at the dense, green canopy. No other little faces peer down at him, no chitterings reach his ears - nay, no howls or screeches of outrage at his presence. Nothing. Turning back to look at the monkey, he is all of a sudden a tad concerned. “Hey… where’s your family, hmmm?” Falke would never dare insult it by asking if it's lost.
He also recalls that monkeys tend to move in family groups, which causes him to look back up at the dense, green canopy. No other little faces peer down at him, no chitterings reach his ears - nay, no howls or screeches of outrage at his presence. Nothing. Turning back to look at the monkey, he is all of a sudden a tad concerned. “Hey… where’s your family, hmmm?” Falke would never dare insult it by asking if it's lost.
this one feels brand new
got good things on my mind when I'm with you
FALKE
