memory’s so treacherous
How do you know she’ll enjoy it? Finn wants to ask, but of course he doesn’t. He’s giving the owl a real glance over now, the Spyglass feeling his lips curl up in a soft smile, though he’s not so sure why. Perhaps it’s the wonderfully awkward way the creature moves; Finn gets to his feet purely so that he can sling the guitar over his shoulder, before crouching back before the bird.
”Artemide,” he repeats, tilting his head. He doesn’t reach out for her - if they are as alike as Safrin says, it would be a good way for Finn to get a finger bitten off - but he does glance back up at the goddess. ”I hope the things she sees are pleasant,” he murmurs, before nodding. ”We have a deal.”
”Artemide,” he repeats, tilting his head. He doesn’t reach out for her - if they are as alike as Safrin says, it would be a good way for Finn to get a finger bitten off - but he does glance back up at the goddess. ”I hope the things she sees are pleasant,” he murmurs, before nodding. ”We have a deal.”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
