the trick is to keep breathing

Angelo had changed since Rinoa had gone into a coma. The dog was subdued, sad and cried sometimes when he caught a whiff of his mistress on the wind, pitiful and dismal and hurting for the girl. Quistis found it was hard to watch, and even more so because she didn't know how to comfort Angelo. She understood that he would only come back to life when Rinoa did.

Those times when he was completely hopeless he'd come and nudge her leg, begging for attention, and from the way he sniffed obstinately in the folds of her clothing, she suspected Angelo was hoping to find Rinoa's smell, but alive and warm and healthy. It was a disappointment every time, but Quistis couldn't make herself push him away. Instead she knelt down and hugged his neck and scratched his ears.

"It'll be ok," she said, and at first she thought she should feel foolish for trying to comfort a dog, but she'd never managed to. It just seemed the thing to do. "She'll come to soon." She'd place a small kiss on his forehead and Angelo would whine, beg for more attention, and bury his head in her arms as if understanding her every word.