One day, Dino found a fallen bird’s nest with a single, unbroken robin’s egg. He carried it in his mouth to her fence. Luna, trembling, came outside. He lowered his head to the ground. She touched his snout. It was warm and leathery, like a sun-baked baseball glove.
Not with one person. But with everyone.
And he loved them. Every single one. Unfairly, completely, and without reason. Because that, Dino knew, was the only way to love. dino x everyone
He was, by all accounts, a gentle giant. And secretly, Dino was in love. One day, Dino found a fallen bird’s nest
Dino listened, his head cocked. He didn’t understand the words, but he understood the cadence, the care. When Mr. Hemlock got to the sad part, Dino reached in with his long, prehensile tongue and gently licked the old man’s wrinkled hand. He lowered his head to the ground
Dino did the only thing he could. He stopped visiting.
Then there was Luna, the mayor’s daughter, who was allergic to everything and terrified of her own shadow. She’d watch Dino from her bedroom window, binoculars pressed to her face.