// I got this feeling, yeah, you know where I'm losing all control //
The lamplighter’s corpse gives one last guttering shimmer, then sags into true darkness. Mud sucks at Vesper’s boots as he straightens, breathing around the hot stitch in his ribs. He flicks a glance at the strip of dull scales in Thal’s fist—mission accomplished—then nudges a half-submerged log with his toe to test its steadiness.
"Trail’s west," he says, voice slipping back into its lazy purr. He gestures her ahead, shadows spilling out to map a surer path across the mire. Thal steps onto the log, refusing to favour her wounded leg, and Vesper falls in behind her—one hand hovering near, ready but unoffered. The night closes around them: frogs trill, distant wings beat, reeds whisper where nothing moves.
They walk until the ground rises underfoot and mud gives way to moss-slick stone. A crooked cedar crowns the ridge, its roots clawing the earth like shipwreck timbers. Vesper slumps against the trunk with a hissed breath, tugging a small silver flask from his coat and passing it over. "Toast to survivin’," he drawls, rolling his shoulder as if that could jar the ache loose. "And to furtherin' your quest, whatever it is."
Shadows coil close while the Feverlands mutter below, the lamplighter’s glow already a rumour among the reeds. Up here, the air is clearer, the stars sharp. Vesper tips his head back to find his own small constellation freckled across the night, then lets his eyelids drift half-shut, savouring the fragile hush amidst the hiss of pain from his bones.
~FIN
"Trail’s west," he says, voice slipping back into its lazy purr. He gestures her ahead, shadows spilling out to map a surer path across the mire. Thal steps onto the log, refusing to favour her wounded leg, and Vesper falls in behind her—one hand hovering near, ready but unoffered. The night closes around them: frogs trill, distant wings beat, reeds whisper where nothing moves.
They walk until the ground rises underfoot and mud gives way to moss-slick stone. A crooked cedar crowns the ridge, its roots clawing the earth like shipwreck timbers. Vesper slumps against the trunk with a hissed breath, tugging a small silver flask from his coat and passing it over. "Toast to survivin’," he drawls, rolling his shoulder as if that could jar the ache loose. "And to furtherin' your quest, whatever it is."
Shadows coil close while the Feverlands mutter below, the lamplighter’s glow already a rumour among the reeds. Up here, the air is clearer, the stars sharp. Vesper tips his head back to find his own small constellation freckled across the night, then lets his eyelids drift half-shut, savouring the fragile hush amidst the hiss of pain from his bones.
~FIN
Vesper
//Go ahead and throw your stones, 'cause there's magic in my bones //
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
