Rough, gritted, coarse.
He moved down the wall, running soft hands over round stumps. Understanding flourished as did sadness. He dug into the mound, and pulled out a piece. He hewed the mold in his palm aimlessly.
He made small figures.
He let them drop to a ground her feet glided over.
Feathered threads brushed along his limbs. She coiled and sprang.
Soft talons stroked his face. She snarled; her black mane shuddered as wind rippling a thousand leaves.
He dug into her skin as he had the earth; she gave a youthful yawn, and purred.
His hands found sinewy flesh and dug again.
Bristles on a rough tongue caressed fingers he used to stroke her mouth.
He set her down again, reaching for her leash. Her cage.
His hands on wall again, he reached for braille, and let her guide him.