At the touch of her hand, did he feel the whisper of existence within his hand still into blessed nothingness. He could feel the bird settle into a sense of preparedness; there was no panicked flutter of wings, nor desperation to cling to the half life that it had been given - simply an acceptance of time and tide.
The bird stilled, until there was nothing left but a handful of snow slipping between his fingers.
While it was a victory, however small - he knew better than to rejoice. Her hesitation was telling, her expression moreso. She did not need to speak the words to understand that she harbored reservations in undoing her own work.
Whether it was life, or simple magic that gave rise to these curious creatures - she felt a measure of responsibility for that. One so young, so pure of heart and desperate for positive purpose could never find comfort in the destruction of creation. Living or no.
He admired it.
For an eternity, he knew nothing of war - yet in the recent cascade of years, he had known nothing but the desperate struggle that came with endless battle. He lived upon the edge of a sword, and was all but certain to die by it.
He envied the peace she knew in her heart of hearts.
"I can." He turned his hand so he might allow the snow to slide free. "But I can also see the fear that these birds might create."
"As a rule, people do not take the unnatural lightly, Elsa."
Which was so often why he fled in the wake of healing, or calming. The questions that came thereafter, and the anger that so often accompanied it undid the kindness of his own action.
Mention of his angelicism saw his brow furrow and his movements still, the shift in conversation jarringly apparent.
“ I don’t understand the question.” He admitted without preamble, wiping his damp palm upon his coat. “What angel thing?”
Was it bad to feel relieved by his words? That it wasn’t what Castiel thought – the angel didn’t believe what she made was monstrous. Even if he should. Because by natural rules, she was. The reason he focused on this was out of concern for her.
Because he knew that it only takes a second before humans gathered up their torches and their pitchforks.
And by all accounts, the angel didn’t want her to be hurt.
A laugh bubbled up from the back of her throat until it finally exploded into the air around them. Elsa didn’t bother trying to cover her mouth, she just enjoyed how ludicrous her thoughts had been.
It was nice to have someone who cared and could actually withstand the cold enough to be around her. Someone who seemed to worry more about her than about what she could do with her abilities if she’d wanted to harm others.
He was really just trying to help нєя.
Elsa smiled often, but it was sharp. A smile that conveyed judgement. This one was not. It didn’t happen often. Sarcasm was her shield and at the moment, she was unarmed. She’d even let that little bit about not understanding her question slide.
"I mean how have you been? How are you doing? I didn’t call you for a therapy session or anything. I was just trying to show you something.. cool. No pun intended. You’re always picking me up and dusting the snow off my shoulders. I thought I’d try to do the same.” <sub
Teeth grazed over her lower lip as she ran her fingers through her hair with a quiet sigh. “Well, that was my intention anyway. You kinda helped me. I didn’t want your help this time, I just wanted you to be around. That making sense to you?”