memory’s so treacherous
”Yours certainly has a degree of charm,” Finn remarks, trying on a smile but failing considerably, and it drops away after little more than a moment. He tries to straighten up as she approaches, pain feathering his jaw. He needs a shower and a shave and more sleep than he’s ever going to get, but all of that seems like far too difficult a task when his ribs are screaming at him to get a grip and do something about them.
”Well, I am his favourite toy,” he says, almost under his breath (because being in a doctor’s office will not stop Cian from coming at him, Finn is sure). ”Not a soldier so much, though. I ran into some trouble in Torchline. Some men wanted very much to see what I had in my pockets. Then I was sent to the Greatwood - it’s been over a week since then.” And he feels worse, not better, if it’s not obvious.
”Well, I am his favourite toy,” he says, almost under his breath (because being in a doctor’s office will not stop Cian from coming at him, Finn is sure). ”Not a soldier so much, though. I ran into some trouble in Torchline. Some men wanted very much to see what I had in my pockets. Then I was sent to the Greatwood - it’s been over a week since then.” And he feels worse, not better, if it’s not obvious.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
