Adrian Stripetail curled up in a corner, shivering, sick with unhappiness. Tears traced down his face, as he fixed his eyes on the one who had come with him.
The one known as The Comforter.
The Comforter had never spoken, yet the little coon had The Comforter's promise, that, when Adrian wanted to rest, The Comforter would sing His lullaby, and Adrian would sleep at last.
Adrian held The Comforter close to his heart for a long time, closing his eyes. Slowly, he poured out his heart to the only thing that ever showed him affection.
And The Comforter listened.
It never spoke, it merely listened. All other spoke of what Adrian should do about his life, how he could rise above adversity, how he should be strong in spirit, be brave in heart.
But what good was bravery, when his father thrashed him from one end of the house to the other, and he hadn't the strength of body to fight back?
What good was strength of spirit, when hunger sapped his physical strength, leaving him with nothing to get him out?
But they knew his problem oh, so better than Adrian did, and they talked and talked, and talked.
Not so the Comforter. In silence, He listened to Adrian's sorrows. In silence, He suffered Adrian's tears to fall upon Him. In silence, He allowed Adrian to hold Him close, and he returned the intimate touch.
And for that, Adrian loved Him.
"What can I do," cried Adrian. "I can never get any relief from it all... no rest... no..."
The Comforter gently reminded Adrian of His promise, and Adrian slowly nodded.
"Sing for me," the raccoon whispered.
The Comfortor gently kissed his temple, then sang His lullaby. Adrian was asleep before the last note faded.
Steven, Adrian's big tough father, snarled as he looked at his young son. The racket had interrupted his workout, and the inquest would be a BITCH to deal with. as if the world didn't have enough freaks without some little shit who called a revolver "The Comforter."