awareness is the enemy of sanity
”They got through me, rather.” Finn’s agreement is a wry and unimpressed thing, the Spyglass irked at his own lack of preparation, his own recklessness. Torchline has made him more reckless than he has ever been before - it is not something he is inclined towards, usually. ”Stalking prey? Who was the prey, then? The men, or me?” He blinks hard as the world fogs at the edges, bringing it wildly back into focus with hints of colour that shouldn’t be there. Finn is as likely to ask for help as Remi is to offer it freely - and so they struggle on as they are.
He does not, however, object to being walked home, nodding and straightening himself up as best as his severely bruised ribs will allow, leading the way in a pace far too slow for his usual liking. ”Like this,” Finn mutters, motioning to himself. ”I haven’t slept more than a handful of hours - two, three maybe - in the last couple of days. I keep seeing dead children.”
He does not, however, object to being walked home, nodding and straightening himself up as best as his severely bruised ribs will allow, leading the way in a pace far too slow for his usual liking. ”Like this,” Finn mutters, motioning to himself. ”I haven’t slept more than a handful of hours - two, three maybe - in the last couple of days. I keep seeing dead children.”
for once you hear the screaming
it never stops
FINN
