Henri Rousseau Surprise

Henri Rousseau SurpriseHenri Rousseau Sleeping GypsyHenri Rousseau Scout Attacked by a Tiger
Will tried to do it. But his head was buzzing, and his left hand throbbed horribly, and he saw his two fingers again, lying on the roof, and then he thought of his mother, his poor mother… What would she say? How would she comfort him? How could he ever comfort her? And he put the knife down on the table and crouched low, hugging his wounded hand, and cried. It was all too much to bear. The sobs racked his throat and his chest and the tears before, it was politeness that had held him back and not knowledge. Lyra, in fact, was breath-taken. Her daemon had done it on his own initiative, and now he withdrew and fluttered to her shoulder as the smallest of moths. The old man was watching with interest but not incredulity. He'd seen daemons before, somehow; he'd traveled to other worlds too.dazzled him, and he should be crying for her, the poor frightened unhappy dear beloved—he'd left her, he'd left her…He was desolate. But then he felt the strangest thing, and brushed the back of his right wrist across his eyes to find Pantalaimon's head on his knee. The daemon, in the form of a wolfhound, was gazing up at him with melting, sorrowing eyes, and then he gently licked Will's wounded hand again and again, and laid his head on Will's knee once more.Will had no idea of the taboo in Lyra's world preventing one person from touching another's daemon, and if he hadn't touched Pantalaimon