what the wood whispers to itself
"You never say my name." You say, distracted, eyes still on the ground. One of your hands finds a clump of your hair, and you pull at it nervously, over and over and over again. It's a tick of yours. Normally Kai is around to smooth his hand into yours to stop it, but just now he isn't, so you tug again and again.
"Nothing. Walking." You blurt, the directness of his question forcing out a response that you haven't given much thought to. By this point you've stopped, though you've only glanced sidelong at the potter once to verify the voice belongs to who you think it does. For your part, you're panic-pulling at a strand of hair and staring at the ground like some wild and frightened beast, forced to stop by invisible reins.
"Nothing. Walking." You blurt, the directness of his question forcing out a response that you haven't given much thought to. By this point you've stopped, though you've only glanced sidelong at the potter once to verify the voice belongs to who you think it does. For your part, you're panic-pulling at a strand of hair and staring at the ground like some wild and frightened beast, forced to stop by invisible reins.
OIA'I'O
