memory’s so treacherous
"Just something to while away the afternoon," Finn agrees, his expression never moving beyond quietly neutral, as if he's well practiced in the art of being innocuous these days. (Especially since the debacle where Remi had asked him to use his glasses to help identify members of the Family - or their friends - and he had been promptly told no). Finding a couple of stray star charts hiding against vents or under nearby chairs, he retrieves them, checks one more time, and then returns them to Flora's waiting pile of resources.
Smiling, as if to tell her that intense is a sliding scale (one he's been on the extreme end of more than one too many times), Finn goes to retrieve his book to tuck it back under his arm, the tome positioned just so that she might be able to discern its title. "I could never cage a bird, even briefly," he tells her with gentle honesty. "And I would not recommend kite-flying as a hobby in a place called Stormbreak."
Look, wordplay! He's come so far.
"For what it is worth, though, I am the type to write and play music. So once I am finished with my foray into biology, that is likely where I will return." No harm in a little extra interest though, right?
Smiling, as if to tell her that intense is a sliding scale (one he's been on the extreme end of more than one too many times), Finn goes to retrieve his book to tuck it back under his arm, the tome positioned just so that she might be able to discern its title. "I could never cage a bird, even briefly," he tells her with gentle honesty. "And I would not recommend kite-flying as a hobby in a place called Stormbreak."
Look, wordplay! He's come so far.
"For what it is worth, though, I am the type to write and play music. So once I am finished with my foray into biology, that is likely where I will return." No harm in a little extra interest though, right?
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
