[It's not as though this other occupant of the Station cannot feel the same sort of anguish, but that she's merely always been, and long enough, so long now, that she understands the necessity of tranquility. She's had to temper herself in the face of deception. She lets her rage out against evils mankind can't comprehend, and so rarely can see. It's not impossible for her to feel thunderclouds of negativity, but such feelings are reserved for the right circumstances. Her default, her effortless, usual state, what others need, is the light housed within her.
Because she's of it, it's a simple thing. And when white wolf lowers herself to girl, not yet intruding on her space, but close enough to be a presence, all she exudes is a sunlight through the mess of everything else. Quiet and patient and loving. Her ears are down in display of docility; she whimpers like a whisper to ask young lady to find her, to stay with her. She'll lay on the floor beside her for as long as she needs.]
wildcard.
Because she's of it, it's a simple thing. And when white wolf lowers herself to girl, not yet intruding on her space, but close enough to be a presence, all she exudes is a sunlight through the mess of everything else. Quiet and patient and loving. Her ears are down in display of docility; she whimpers like a whisper to ask young lady to find her, to stay with her. She'll lay on the floor beside her for as long as she needs.]